Crimson and milk canopies frame her mind. Truth and belief stand as giants—doubt stretched between. Self clutches a staff of hope And walks, Ignores the faceless shouts from below—fear, misery, regret—
Music plays in perfect harmony, Colors line the stars in the deepest hues, Words take the breath from her heart, Clouds surpass all believability— Friends frame her heart in hope, Play the music
You two asked me to come with you one Friday night, And I agreed. We sat on the floor of an empty room of an art show With a piece showing rain falling
I remember you. I remember how eagerly you listened to my heart and my secrets. I remember how you wiped my tears And made sure no sorrow was left. I remember you. I
I sat and watched a long black cat With eyes of smoldering gold She paced along a crumbling wall A restless hunter’s prowl. Then sprawled she in the sunlight’s warmth, Her
“So I looked, and behold, a pale horse. And the name of him who sat on it was Death, and Hell followed with him...” —Revelation 6:8a I draw near to the Light.
When the shadows grew long, I fell in a field and buried my face in the dirt. My sleep I gave to lengthen the days, My muscles to run through walls, My brain
What would I learn if I had not begun The journey on this dark and crooked path? God possesses joy and also wrath, And on this horrid day I feel but one. My
Resting in You. Trusting in You. Content in You. What do I really want from You? Are my desires correctly placed? What brings me satisfaction in life? Is it You? Oh Lord, May
How do I start things in my day? By waiting for a vision. Say, A creature inspiration brings. She makes me want to do good things. And yet, when inspiration hits, My willpower
The fifth of March I sat before a book of history, Reading up on Washington and John F. Kennedy. I took a long and weary sigh, for life had lost its zest. I
Some days, It’s the way the sun shines through the window And seems to bounce back up. Some days it’s the way the coffee smells, Or the way the china clinks,
Our journey often leads To places we know well, To places often trod With heavy footsteps fell. Our journey often leads To places yet unknown, To places left untouched Where never seed was
In the modern world, Since journeys are rare, I start Writing my own quest. I write of mountains. To reach the treasure, I climb Impossible crags. This journey is hard, Laden down by
A dark and lonely rutted track That leads to somewhere far away. A journey with no time to slack Upon the quester’s weary way. To search for truth, forgotten long, Or wealth
Was ever a desperate search so Peaceful as this? What path was so foggy and Calm as mine? What shapeshifter ever so Certain as I? I am revealed Without looking. God has not
There’s something about the light crashing against the walls, or maybe it’s the way her sheets lie on the floor, the way scattered textbooks bleed into the carpet, the way her
Faded doors, Faded lives. Hearts will always sacrifice The things we want, The things we need, And at the end, Our hearts impede This lie we live Of up and down And all
I’m looking back, As I oft do when thinking of you And I wonder, Are you remembering those times, too? If I asked you, what would you say? I’m looking back,