a tentative hope, wildly young

springing to life! wonderous knowledge




i can see by the stars, though they burn on my skin

i would rather be hurt by the truth than the wind

the pressure of wondering finally gives in


i don’t have to wander through THESE QUESTIONS AGAIN



broken bits; human beings wonder if
we’ll ever be fixed enough to seem
like heartache is not unraveling
the seams we stitch to break our bonds
funny how we tie those knots
specifically to free ourselves;
and yet the prison remains.

we are cracked and chipped like pottery
the lumpy turtle kilned in third grade;
Pork Chop the pig named by pigtails
and all the in between.
And yet more perfect still are we
than over-fired pottery;
humans were made by divine hands
so no matter how we crush ourselves
we can always be repaired.

The Eye of the Poem

So many words to capture this feeling;

This dark slumbering now brightened 

So many thoughts that spiral around

A cyclone of rushing, which inside is silent. 
Breathe in clarity for the first time in decades

Enjoy the oxygen’s dizzying rush

Leave behind bitterness, anger, frustration

Welcome home your recovering Trust. 

I am unworthy.
I am simple numbers and you are quantum physics
I am no science at all and you are biochemistry
You are all the good and light that I alone could never be.

Metaphors are weak little things
They dilute the strength of my feelings
Jesus, how could I possibly understand
How much more you are than I can comprehend

If I crumpled in your presence and was tossed into the wind
If I scrubbed at my own stains or tried to clean away my sins
Lord, I’d never be enough
To call myself your friend.

I am not fit to die a gruesome death in your place
Yet you died upon MY CROSS to bring me mercy, healing, grace.
This slave is not fit to die for royalty,
Yet here you are, my King, who humbly died for me.

What Love Can Do

I’m bleeding inside
My heart is so dull
I doubt ever to find
My long-wandering soul.

How could life be returned
In its joys, to me?
How could the world turn on
After this sick misery?

I do not think I shall last.
I am near sure I have fallen too far.
The chasm is so deep
Its cracks ease into my heart
Gripping with dark claws and cold feet.

I seek to find myself again
But it seems loss is my only friend.
I cannot escape my past.
The darkness grows deeper
My light flickers weaker
And I do not think I shall last.

My torch has near gone out
I crawl on gravel-ridden stone
I cry desperately aloud
But no one will take me home.
With last enticing effort
I stretch out a pleading hand
And finally my cries are answered
By the Son who died for Man.

Come, take refuge here,
I hear Him, though my heart is sleepy.
Dear one, do not fear,
He has found me; He will keep me.
I am all the Light you need,
And the shadows are terrified.
Your chains are gone and you are freed,
My God carries me to the Light.