It's Not Over

When my heart wanted to cave in You breathed it to life. And when I said forever I’ll walk alone, You’ve lead me to a place Where even when I feel Hurt, abused You sing me alive. With your song of life I have a reason to press-- No longer distressed, I give my all to you. I hear the ghosts of my past Trying to tell me I’ll finish last, but You tell me This new day Has just begun. Even in my doubt, My thoughts run while You stand still. While the wind blows, I realize even then, Your song of life Will calm the waves-- Allow me to see The beauty of falling leaves, The simmering dusk… While the night Has owls, endless calm stars drawn by your hands.

A Thousand Years

The embers of another day gone by Without you Makes me wonder About scripture, Where a day with God Is as a thousand years In my fears, I wonder How He loves The church, the fragile and lonely. Those days you don’t feel You’re enough. Bare trees With seeds buried, their branches Wait for spring to bare… Out buds that give birth to songs And lyrics of dew When the truth Still reigns in November Where Frost told the story Of the youth on the road Less taken, where Ruth Gleans the open Fields of corn, stitches hidden In the husks, wanting to hold And reach beyond.

I feel like a phony
take advantage of your grace
don't deserve to be called
your son, I gave up on me
but you said you'd never leave

you stay by my side, when I
should let you drive and let go

How do you love when
I sin and disgrace your name
How do you give
when I give your love away
How do you know
when I feel such shame

stay by my side, please, I
should let you drive and let go

You've given so much more
than I know
you lead and guide me
please use the pain to help me grow

use the pain to make me
more like you

use the pain to mold me
use the pain to make me
stand still and trust you more

Bleeding

I watch you walk around town
And mumble chants to yourself
While I listen to the mesh
The mental notes squawking with
The birds while I contemplate
Self doubt and your doubts
As we walk by the wallpaper
Of this foreign town growing
On our skin, the wind breathing
Inside the idea of the new normal.

We walk the intersection
Of fall leaves and
sweat drops falling as tears,
People trying to survive
The 9-5s and 24-hour shifts
Of loneliness and meandering
The graveyard shifts
Whether if it’s lies, hurts, pains
Onto red-eye flights of memories
The things that follow us
Into dreams of ghastly
Asking the night air what’s next,
Tasking the soul in how to break free

When strongholds fall
In mumbled prayers
Of half opened mouths
Flossing pillows between cheekbones
And when angels sing
Through rain’s chorus of blood drops
From the practical, needing and hurt
When I walk outside and clouds
Seem to part and stretch the sun,
Emotional stitches healing after surgery
of the fall
And the birth of something new

Prodding Me

to leave this dying flesh
to reach for the light
stepping out in faith
when I don't want to
leave the driveway. Lined with
my past. Simply, take me
to where it's just me and you.

How can I take my body
and bring it back to life?
that somehow breathes inconsistency
yet speaks prayers
that don't seem heard.
when everyone is asleep.

in the still night chill,
the ground a hard corpse
grass frost-laden,
my feet on
the wooden floor, pacing

pray and trust.
The grass that grows
began with a seed,
I am more than the stars
that swim free,
let go and believe.

work in progress

Oh wretched man, Paul said
when he debated law and grace
how he could want more but be
in a stale place. Between a woman
and a man, what is this

that tried to divide
Christ and His bride.
And I think on how
could it be
that I see her standing there

yet can't speak...
Oh, wretched man, it's time
to take a stand.
Through blood and tears
and break through

fear and insecurity
to lose then win
to break death and the power of sin.
Bleeding heart, I hear you cry
Oh wretched man, break free and be

go ahead and bleed--
at least you can feel--
Fight, Oh wretched man,
take a stand.

Sleep

While you lay,
The world is
Passing by
a sleeping playground.
Inside a cocoon
Children’s eyes open
Underneath blue light.
The air glazed in silence,
laced by your dreams.

Eclectic

Sometimes I wonder
If I pray amiss, since
There is a rose that can
Break through concrete.
And pierce a sidewalk
That’s been crossed since
A man broke his back
Carrying rubble to
Stonehenge. A prayer that
Can be spoken beyond
Time and speak
Man into being
For generations, give sunlight
Where, all was once lost
And broken--grace now found.

Disjointed

Like Ezekiel,
When he saw dry bones
Come done, my
Disjointed bones
Come done beyond
My prayer--
A random sound
That creeps down
Balconies and
A sky that’s fallen.
The hungry man
on the corner block
Asks for money--
His voice is
Wind that follows me
Too quiet at times…
Too foreign, not comforting
Yet familiar.

My footsteps are
Etched in sand, then buried
Underneath water.
Seagulls fall just
Low enough to haunt.
But my shadow,
our bodies
Are children dancing
With the falling sun.
The flesh must die
So that I may live
The flesh must die
So that I can breathe
Even if my breath
Is frail, molten pipe.
My voice is the quell
Buried beneath coal
If I fail
To give the hungry man
A piece of bread, and
If I fail
To hear the song you’ve given
In dedication, that voice
Will cut the dull edge that is
my will.

Anticipation

Frozen. Underneath these clouds
Downstairs in the living room,
I wonder
If there was a way I should’ve
Told you that I was coming
home.
And if, perhaps, that would have
Have somehow had comforted
You, but…
How incredibly selfish. That January day,
You hugged me as I went
Out the back door. And now,
To think that I
Could change the hand of God
To think that
Perhaps I could’ve stopped Him
From calling you to rest….is not fair.
Is not right
Because you are a God who
Knows best, you are a God
Who has her in your arms,
You are what cannot be…
comprehended, Your grace is
what guides me to
Memories of birthdays,
Her laughter
And the promise
That, because of You,
she passed
Beyond the shadow of death.

Living Prayer

Heaven is happy since you rest,
An angel whose prayers
Walk with me

Each day and every morning.
The time you spent
On your knees, so that

Any time I walk through hillsides
I hear God’s voice. Softly above
Your laugh and smile,

That breaks sadness,
causes me to feel light. Every time,
Thinking of you…

You resting, wanting
Me to feel joy.
I think of memories

the tinge of your breath,
Causing scriptures to come alive
Even as I fall asleep.

Prayers for safety each day,
Soft chants of encouragement to
Embrace life

With each new morning.
The graying, golden clouds try to wrap
Their fingertips around me

With the lack of warmth from the hidden sun…
But I know you’re here.
Underneath a green sky,

Clouds cleft the light, burning in wind
While seashells clatter,
backwards and forwards

With the sea’s voice, mighty
Yet peaceful. Lingering
Waves flail and I hear your voice

Telling me to trust God,
And I’m put in a place where
Snow wanders in summer

Blue diamonds nurture
grass, sun-burnt
fingers that reach for Heaven.

The Sky is Falling

There’s something between us
That may as well have been
Spoken millions of years ago

Before light was thought of…
It already was. Before sound--
Was already conceived…

But somewhere, I know in
The fabric of time, there
Was a unsown button--
A thread through creation

That wedged a gulf. I don’t understand
But I ask
To cross the bridge
That Jesus built after
The wealthy man opened
His eyes on the other side

Of paradise. When I open my eyes
And see hunger.
The sun burning on its own
Axis. God’s creation
Falling apart in perfect
Symmetry.

Resurrection

There are those out there
who hurt, even though they don’t
Know it. I can say
That I am not
Perfect, but I pray
Beyond flaws, that hands
Will lift one
Another in prayer.
I can believe that we fight
Not against flesh
But against oppression-
Beyond distress
I knew was true
When your hand
Touched my shoulder.
Watched you laugh
With frown lines, stitches
That still haven’t healed.
When I listened
And heard your breath
Whisper secrets
When you yelled
At the lady for
Giving you wrong
Change. Felt you
Cry when you walked away
As if you carried
A cross in your purse.

Evelyn's Father (Thoughts Whispered Underneath His Breath)

The clock on the wall stares
And sees you, as a fly
Wanders, hears your breath
And sees your body, slurred
Across the chair. The fly hears
Your thoughts of Evelyn.

Thoughts that there is something lying latent
in her eyes a sunrise marching to
the thump of your heart beat.
There is a element of truth
That pierces through lies
Said when she was six.
In your smile, the fly discerns

There’s something ready to peek through.
Inside a picture, your smile breaks,
Ready to push through a secret
Blooming through your shoes.
Through your legs,
Through your fingertips
Beyond your neck and hair
Are dimples smiling and hiding something. The fly hears you...

What you were yet to be
Despite the shortcomings, Evelyn,
of those around you, you will be
Someone special. No, you will be
The embodiment of
My secret prayers at night. You’re already
More than I can speak, even though
You won’t hear me try, I will
Say it, now…
Try to be better, I will
try to be
Someone better
Than the man
Who sleeps in mumbles.

Opening Heart

The breeze swims around my outstretched,
Sunbathed hands; open, expecting.
With the sunset,
There’s a valley, death and burial
in the distance.
The sun is an eye
Behind the tree line, light stares
Calmly detached. Light
Was birthed from the mouth of God.
So, I will pray
With expectation.
with my mouth closed.

Sleeping Shadow

Tree branches bend
And give alms beneath the sun,
dusk illuminates the moon
Half hidden from my grasp
And praying for sleep.
But with you in mind,
your shadow within me,
the sun treads over rocks.
Thinking of you, will
Give me peace;
The strength to go forward
in your prayers
Of traveling mercies.
Even if sunlight fails.

Moment of Silence

There are times I wonder
About the ties that
Hold us, invisible. Mental
Tapestries of breathing
In and out each time
Air swarms our nostrils. Memories
That have the ability to fall through
Leafless bare branches of
January; the month that sucks
The breath away from mother
Nature.

On a Saturday night
Where headlights dream to be
Lost in the moon’s silhouette,
Windows break open, despite
The light breeze that sways
A girl’s hair. The sunset lost,
A lantern shadowed in clouds
Wanting to bleed rain.
At a diner, a busboy stands
On the back dock,
And somewhere my mind drifts,
Past San Antonio’s airport
Where honey buns and Latino charm
Gleam despite the silent air. With tired arms
Slinked with dishes, I breathe
past the Sunday chapel, beyond
Thoughts of feeling something
In a moment where excitement becomes longing.
Dishes clash behind me as footsteps
That desire to come back home.
My heart knows
Perhaps, my brain, that I must
Go through. This loneliness in crowds;
people around me, plates burning
My hands. I imagine
What would happen if I just stopped. But
Outside, I hear my mother’s breath
In my dad’s strength, my
Siblings love in my blood-
Pricked hands.

From Heaven's Workshop

I walk the streets, off beat
on crumbled sidewalks. A leaf
Lost in a park. In a garden

graced with birds tickling trees,
their footsteps whisper
on the branches. Music
from heaven, words

in spring’s light
a thought forgotten
And then remembered.
The birds’ voice would inspire
her. I ponder silently how

She rests in her workshop--
Her mind swarming with
Line-breaks
And King David writes psalms

while Abraham, the father
Of nations thinks of stars that burn
that can’t be numbered with birthdays.

My mother
I pray daydreams of warm summers,
lengthened walks near thunder,
Cracked lightning over the lake
Where she grew up and doesn’t have to
Run anymore. Enjoying
Palmetto’s half-hidden sun.

***
Sometimes at night, the stars linger
in the sky, stand still and question
the moon. Wonders beyond earth, what holds everything
in place. I stare waiting
for a semblance, a touch—
an answer.

***
In the park that night, the pond stretched
over the horizon. Calling from within
the clouds, the stars fall
subject to the moon’s silhouette.
 
I pause and question, think about her,
wonder how I could miss a touch
I never received. But I rest, stare
send a prayer
past the stars, still as if confident.
 
I look up and hear a woman’s voice
lost in late spring wind.
I walk away
and hear her ask with frustration
if heaven exists. The moon
pulls away at the pond, and in the waves
there is a glimmer. A star falls
silent, burns underneath the wave’s gentle ambling,
pulled reticent by heaven’s gravity.

***
Across the street, from a cafe
people walk to and fro—waltz
to class, to work, from home.
In the morning, where the sun burns
the earth’s panes, yet soothes
through the curtains, in my booth I question
when the answer will come. But I wait. I watch
people cross the street and wonder how
the spirit inside
holds rain for the heart to beat and grow to—keep
pace with. To run with even when the pail
inside seems full. Even when you don’t know
if you can run and hold anymore.

***
One day in front
of Wal-Mart, a man’s glance
told me more about God
than religion ever could. With his eyes,
worn with age he said, young man,
don’t stop dreaming, don’t stop believing,
don’t be afraid to keep asking.
I look up and imagine how
everything around us is in motion—
the planets move perfectly around the sun—
dying, yet held perfect in gravity.
Later that night, the moon pulled away
from the pond. I saw a glimmer.