Altered

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If I 
Must feel but
Stay silent outside
With wide eyes
With fine heart 
And pen for my sword 
Will you

If you 
Must come but
With honor toward me
Stay farther
Stay shorter
And slay me no more
Will you 

Sullivan Sailed 

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He blinked
Lifted his eyes to the skies
Cast them down
And jumped ship 
So she would save him

She cool waters
Buoyed up hope
Smoothed the rocky shores
And slowed to a walk
So he would catch her

One dreamed this
Called by unspoken voices
Imagined as they were
And Sullivan sailed
So as to prove it 

Provision

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Living breathing poetry
Are people can’t you see
And at day’s end, the prose and skin of souls 
Is my Goodread 

Thus daylong I do gather
Good will, good faith, good fight 
For provision to warm me
As I walk the cold, harsh Night

Admonish

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The moment it came
I wished it away
Closed my eyes 
Admonished my spine
For daring to want more than a lazy ceiling fan from above
Giving rise 
To the chills on my skin here below

Pace

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All this breathless talk
Should end soon
So there
Nearing the end
I’ve planned as an afterthought 
To kick out your feet from ‘neath you
May only the prairie grass catch us

Statistics

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We warn our feet

Qualify our wishes with caution

Prove it up

Before the soul be set free to live

When none comes

When all the alarms go unheeded, convictions disregarded and we rule on the side of hope-drenched faith

Because what are we if we refuse to have faith! 

We wonder back

At the how of it all

Through the bars of imprisonment that corral our wild hearts

While our fears run free