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.