Bethlehem

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Ask too many questions
Think too many thoughts
See what you don’t see, but want to
Do too many oughts

Now, if grit and faith were gold
A sultan I’d outspend
For all the “oughtn’t haves” I did
I have become truth’s friend

Inspirational Credit: Ruth 1:19 “So they two went until they came to Bethlehem.”

To Would

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Wouldn’t we wonder
Wouldn’t we seek
Look up
Wait for words

Wouldn’t we ask for our lives
Wouldn’t we give them back
Stand down
Receive the Word

Wouldn’t we fight
Wouldn’t we push through
Speak up
Deliver the words

Then Flow

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What right to realize, to move…to dance
To breathe, to be, then receive
The destruction, after all, was vast
Yet
The beautiful opportunity, now, at hand
To awaken, to erupt, then flow
What wrong to commit, to not move…to not dance

Lost in Space

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Never is not a length of time
But a condition of the heart that wants to believe
And would welcome help

Understanding has capacity
Yet, will not blindly accept
An old soul you must assure, as you walk it across the street

Fight — innate in these bones
Blood-born, not a choice
The sun will set and rise o’er the strive to set things right

Love is what I was
Love is what I’ll always be
I’ll never understand why you didn’t fight for me

Statuesque

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Leggy
Considering going dancing
And, cannot care whether the two-step is solo

Reminiscent
Keeper…giver…wayfarer
A better time…a good time…now is the time

Blooming
Stationary, unwary, worthy
Holding all manner of good secrets to share

The Good Day

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The expression,

“Thank you, friend, for your habit of breaking me

For stepping forth as straw-to-camel’s-back o’er my tendency

To give every ounce of me

— despite your toxicity —

That there’d be 100% in we

Unbeknownst to me, artificially

This Union, to me, most seriously

Meant the world, was my all, yet somehow saw me

Move from true joy that was ever deliriously

Full

Into trouble

Taking my sanity

And the strength of me

So that all that I am is now what you see

A human, who failed to live with the clarity

Of the value Jesus saw when He died for me

Here I sit

At curbside, calmed, and quietly

At His cross, listening, finally

To His voice and not yours, you see?”

has early — this Good Day — crossed my blessed lips, gracefully.