Fluid

To believe in a creator God is to believe in an artist instead of a machine. When the sun rises each day, it is not the clicking over of a mechanized operation, but a fluid piece composed and lovingly crafted by an attractor God. I live in a city but he lined my street with trees, to help me to believe.

Only Brave Men Watch the Sea

I'll need the whole beach stretched
from heal to brow
on top to lay my sorrow down.
Comfort now, there's comfort down
lay now under golden ground

Only brave men watch the sea
only calm men know the tide will turn
to return their love
when waves mellow to dreams

Trace, retrace and race my
steps
til I get to where I missed-I found the spot I missed you.
Comfort now, there's comfort down
now I sit where warmth has kissed you.

Only brave men watch the sea
Only calm men wait for the caps to break
and crumble where we missed you

follow your hands to the middle

Shadows of the coiled lattice
mark my legs
and paint them a henna sort of
statue
most beautiful
and my hands are framed
holding things
once I swore I'd never hold.

Jewel once said her hands
were small
but mine are long and skinny
and once they held orphans
a while before now
and once I believed that they were good
and now
I believe they are ghosts
that have attached themselves to me

I watch them like a mystery betraying me

Explain to me, my hands
I'm listening

Smash the Glass and Let's Get to Dancing

When I'm tired and old, I'll do as I'm told,
but I'm young, wired and awfully inspired
to bandy about, the benefit of the doubt

Smash the glass half full onto the tiled floor
and let's get to dancing

Fail and Wait

Into the last wind I blew it
my last
a salute to the end of
the trial
Now we wait for it all
to settle
and you weigh
and I wait
and you weigh
while I pray
and I fail
I fail
I fail


Mix some honey
with this late spoonfull
and I will drink
down from your hand
Joshua's rememdy
is 2 parts death
to impart life

you prevail
I fail
You prevail

Barren Ones

"What is my barrenness It is the platform for His fruit-creating power. What is my desolation? It is the black setting for the sapphire of His everlasting love. I will go in poverty, I will go in helplessness, I will go in all my shame and backsliding, I will tell Him that I am still His child, and in confidence in His faithful heart, even I, the Barren One, will sing and cry aloud.

Sing believer for it will cheer thine own heart, and the hearts of other desolate ones."

- The Old School Mr Charles Spurgeon, rocking the kazbar since 1834

Stitching up the Mail

I've stitched up a new arrangement between mail and me. I'm going to open it upside down and look at the hidden parts first, the last parts now, to know your name before you write mine. When I touch the last, the latest salutation before your pen falls off the page, that's the bit I'll discover first, the closest we will ever be. Your last my first.