To turn the mourning to a song
To claim the weather was your choice
And all the ache a beckoned friend
To want no more than what is now
To plant the flowers among pests
And seeds of doubt in yesteryear
So then, with wisdom, kingdom come
Deciding this morning whether
To be afraid for our weather
For this Earth
For its Underlings
I noticed triumph
Its and Theirs
I saw green, cold tears
Gladness!
There was little left to do
Open wide the window
Cry out
Three cheers for a cold victory!
Absorb the mistakes
Of these clumsy, working hands
Beautiful weekend
Gingerly
Silently
From a place of respect
From defeat
Not yet ready for the early morning lack
The streets still littered with the chaos that ensued
I close the door
From the other side
I ask, To Whom can I turn
He tells me Yes, and shepherds me to sunlight
All these fine, blind men
Contented by my Echo
Narcissism numbs
You would say, “I see you”
I’d say, “How absurd”
You would tell me to look close
InBetweenEachWord
I, with human heart and soul
Need enlightened news
You, with your electric eye
Have nothing to lose
What the taupe has taken
We spend day after day examining
Seeking some rose-gold undertones
Finding only frayed edges
Tarnished brass rings
Muted seasonless neutrals, at best
Calling all consultants
Fashionistas and friends
Feel in our stead
Cheerlead our heads
Bring in the gloss
Repurpose the lost
I opened the door
My wishing is small white lies
Brutalizing me
Bible in a pile
Way back there, in the backseat
By balloons -prey tell?
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?
