Break me, Father
For I am unworthy.
My heart is calloused; prideful;
Flood me with you, drown me in peace
Make empty my thoughts and dreamless my sleep
I cannot swim through this, I cannot climb out
I need you to break and
We sometimes want what will not help…
We seek the lights that will melt our hands
Fingers stretching to touch the gold;
Grasping flames not meant to hold…
We sometimes trust what is always wrong…
Freeing floods deeper than our souls,
Lamenting as we cannot float
Cries for mercy cut off by mill-stones
We trap ourselves then weep for home.
Little bits of gold
Hidden in the trees;
Honeyed twigs and branches
Unfurling fronds of greenery, dripping from the breeze
Sunlight touches everything, hiding
precious metals in the trees.
I do not need to make all things so real
In an effort to anchor, I let everything
It’s crazy, it subdues
How can one person bear the weight of a billion wrongs?
How can two trembling hands
count the words of endless songs?
Two bony shoulders cannot straighten under the weight
Of every single human beings’ worst moment and mistake.
I must stop anchoring myself to loss
To suffering, and breakage, and torment without cause.
What business have I to empathize
With every one at once?
If I do not break to clean my faith
It will crumble, like dust, all at once.
Not even sunlight can banish the storms
The tempest that turns all it touches to what I abhor
Tributes of gold that flow from the trees;
Touching the sky to flame, to beauty
Nevertheless, my eyes protest
I do not see light. I do not see grace
A simple drive and what do I find?
Woman and child, together outside
God, they’re in agony!
Holding what’s left, someone’s final breaths
They weep, clad in flesh…
A blink and a jolt, I shudder
This is not a vigil.
Just chores. Elbows deep in a bag of mulch.
Can. I drift. Away. Someplace
Calling friends new and old
Can I float down every stairwell
Ever built, destroyed, or wrought to sell
Can I curl up inside my wretchedness
Among the thoughts that call me
Can I give in to the pounding rain
That floods my brain and calls my name
Can I let it drown me again?
Who will stop me if I let them in?
How hard is it to mend
A mind once bent and
Torn? Is it possible to sew
Each neural fabric, a mental
My mouth no longer allows a plea
A few eyes are all that’s left of me
Deathly primary shock, the ending freeze
Exquisite numbness is what will finish things.
Make someone a murderer. Distance yourself.
Each person ignores the ones they could help.
Dear one, knock!
Enter if you will.
Anybody sent by God
Does naught but bear goodwill.
How pleasant a task,
Every prisoner asks
“Let me go free! Absolved of all things!”
Poisoner or poisonee… we all need