Hebrews 4:15-16

There is no healing

apart from the holiness of God.
nor hope,
apart from His mercy.
nor love,
apart from His friendship.
nor salvation,
apart from His blood.
Rejoice!
for He is not far from you!
He is not alien
to your humanity
nor to your infirmity.
~
For we do not have a high priest
who is unable to empathize
with our weaknesses,
but we have one who
has been tempted
in every way, just as we are—
yet he did not sin.
Let us then with confidence
draw near to the throne of grace,
that we may receive mercy
and find grace to help
in time of need.

brief exodus

beauty bore the day when november rain waited
behind breathtaking clouds that separated pain
from sky like the red sea - upon us daylight streams
plundering men's faces from sadness and grayness.
and for reasons not fully understood comes
grieving & sorrow for hurts and wrongs i've done
and though seeking to cease, tearful do.
yet thankful songs from the inside also raise
thundering, lightning, darkness-breaking, praise.

Love.

agape
phileo
eros
affectio
charity
storge
all that i know
can be summed up in
some haunting feeling
unletting of me
to go. not because of control.
'cause i fell into an ocean and walking
steps feel so easy.
yet fearful - like a haunting.
what sort of thing does this?
cartwheeling through life
and i'm upside down crying
for the reasons.
but love
like a jewel is not forthcoming
but like miracles,
exists
with God~
Who makes us right side up
turning turvy straight unto Himself
souls learning death
in order to know love
and therefore live
by only one profound meeting
a Lord upon a Tree
even he'll see
what scattered love-pieces
when freedom giving
and receiving
have meant
to me.
O Lord, how i
need
trust
long for
& love
Thee.

frustrated poet

under a tree under quiet careful i waited
when words like birds stirred above my head
'til they trembled and fell, as leaf-stars landing
a multitude, still & solid, but unwilling to be held.
i watched them lay tenderly, delicate rustling like
old friends take delight in small intimate gathering
each one bursting with joy and heartfelt expression
they colored unheard-of glories upon the black dirt
like love stories paint pages beneath its black ink.
But then the air sighed - with wind's heavy breath -
& stars and spirit split leaving barely a glimpse.
fierce and uncontrolled, wild beauty of a dance
blown as birds away, swiftly romanced.
and i wanted my word-stars
obediently to stay
that another sad sitting
perhaps gray unbelieving
might too be raised up, from black
dirt to know color, Spirit, life and birth.

*I have no idea why this poem is in the shape of a cup. It was an accident actually that i sort of just, went with!

winter's heart

Love draws what is far-off, near.
'Cross fresh and frosty furlong --
stilling the wild desert winds
and abruptly waking
Blue eyes to Blue Bright reality.
Its coolness stung my cheek,
bitterSweet rose bruise,
making me (dumb) to sing!
song sprang! like sparkles --
Light dancing over fields of snow.

Think

coffee and tea
blue and red seats.
walls hold history --
economics and philosophy
kierkegaard, freud, & neitzsche
but warmth doesn't run deep
til we're buried in theology.

wireless and beer
moments stretched broad to fill
3 short years.
thoughts, memories,
drama or a midday dream.
friday nights spent laughing
attempting studying
perhaps in need of showering
post ultimate frisbee.

sunday gazes, journal pages
passing buses, umbrellas, faces.
windows providing blue sky glimpses
a siren whisper making mind
reminiscent of mysterious shoreline
salt wind kisses.

music and writing
revelation and struggling
friendship's and love's conversation
that strengthen vision
mingling with psychological or real
caffeine addiction.

we're growing. and one
by one they're disappearing
i wait, time biding, unwanting
to be anywhere but quietly here
for at my edges an ache
for the history, philosophy,
economy and theology
of intimacy is ebbing.
tracing the beauty of a well-trod space
where we came to know one another
under common grace.

introvert

rediscovering time moment-style
in this beloved place of awkward silence
slow and warm gather waves of quiet
more real than a blanket
around me tight
unraveling gnarled grasp
of world & words' clutching disease,
from the edges of my being.
and i hear: heart rhythms hiccup become steadfast
awakened with space like morning light;
and drawn by prayer's trusted hand
brokenness healed in the presence of God.

the tenant

Abiding in this space unseen cut with diamond gravity

I breathe.
Infant-blink, cautiously discovering existence
past death's brutal blow and sting.
Destruction wavers upon consummation
unsettling all my buried pieces
hurt-made shy to waking
in dim, compassionate light.
Barrenness bloomed in holy hibernation,
hanging up hearts burden on midnight stars
set free from worldly fairytales.

A listless wanderer lingers near
But brokenness and love left locked the door.
Grief’s house cannot be plundered, presumed vacant
I am drinking in its beauty; for I am its tenant,
supping with the patient Lord of silent sadness.
I nestle to his side near coldening smoldering fire
Eyes mesmerized goodbying dying embers dancing.

to the pure

what reasons are for the holding of
a virtue in ones fist
one grasp gentle, the other fierce
squeezing to bring drops that run
from heaven to lips...
the world hates this–
beyond my eyes and sometimes frightens
when it I also find in dearly beloveds’ heart,
but that I might know the mind of Christ
I cry, reach out for this realer part
praying friendship with its healing art.
let it cleanse my soul from fallacious game
that takes prisoners for others or selfish gain,
for when virtue reigns from palm to sight
in spite of blindness, death - there opens wide
a narrow gate underneath
world’s brazen face, boisterous barren tease,
where dew collects on fairies’ backs --
and joy blooms truth fruit ‘bout our heads
where trees of fields clap golden hands
and angels of God gather to crown
humble heroes with loving glances.
still there comes due time
for virtue’s flower to fade, like all flesh,
deemed worthless beauty, pass away,
on earth she'll gain no accolade.
and death it seemed only ever tasting
fool's paradox - and God's - embracing
to know love everlasting.

Holy Spirit

You arrive, arise – in spite of world’s dust and grime

Your face shines.
revealing all brown blurriness to be
what it is really, smudge on a child’s cheek
without capacity to extinguish life’s
fire, joy and spring.
And I know that there is truth buried here,
there is more than meets these tired eyes
that wrestle long against tireless lies.
What is beyond –
this hour this page,
strife that threatens to wear life away?
Will there be a song to strip off cold care-less grave
sung by the One with whom sorrow did deeply acquaint,
that impoverished soul ad-hearing, in a moment -
becomes a saint?
love becomes thy refuge, faith the only road for
straggling prodigals making way to the Father's home.
i hold on in spite of what most will not want to understand
I can hold on to nothing but God.