Your Door: A Poem to My Son

Such is the challenge
To behold a door
To sense all it leads to
While not grieving more

To know if it’s opened
The Divine has willed
To praise, when it’s closed
His providence, still

Forth, amble with purpose
Or wait night and day
But ask for The Blessing
God’s presence, to stay

Goodness Forward

I see we
Coral reefs rebuilding
Faith and science merging
Fingers intertwining
Neighborly and such

Time to be
Touching at heart-level
With one cause, all rebels
Sisters, brothers ever
Keeping, caring much

One, two, three
Breaths, then best foot forward
Goodness in deed and word
See how heaven has heard
Angels among us

I See

This morning, it seems, these eyes sting of defeat

“Look harder,” the stormy air asks
“See clearly the calm, the victory now, here for the weary faithful.”

It was passive perhaps, to remain on the mat
Yet, that was The Way, way back then

Voracity and patience, be purposeful now
That the challenge of hope, the determined eyes
Shall be the reward, the brass ring

Just pick up your mat
Just see

Supplicant

Do we know what we commit when we pray?
I’m uncertain

Questions, I know I need
After asking for comfort from the One who commands the stars and could right-well hand them to me
Am I earnest enough?
Am I faith-filled?

Is this ignorance or freedom?
What says my soul?

The Rest

There is no sleep due you, no matter the hour -and the work you’ve put in lies in escrow- so, should you decide to denounce the dark, come to the table and smile, you will find what’s waited there for you throughout the time you spent wasting your allegiance to some greyish space you’d grasped while grieving another’s hopelessness projected onto Your skin: renounce your faith in That, now.