Me and God

I catch myself talking and praying to God as if He is an outsider or a psychotherapist with notepad in hand while I ramble away in a black leather chaise. As if He really has no idea of what I'm going through; as if He's never been in my shoes. I know I do this because I find myself getting frustrated in my futile attempt to explain to The Creator of The Universe exactly what it is that I need, want, or don't want. I hope He gets at least a grin out of it, I know I would.

Indian Summer Moon

Contour of grace
Faith embossed upon a night sky
Indian Summer moon
Mystic freedom wraps its fragile fingers around the hours
Somewhere there are footprints left by no one
Immeasurable treasure discarded by the wise
If you can believe, it will be
40 days into eternity
You may lose your way
You may choose to stay
Shaman’s incense and fire-dance
Embers glow from his fingertips
Making you forget
And remember the longest day
When the sun sat still, like a topaz gem clasped in the heavens
When night was denied her conjugal visitation
The stars wept and dew became a golden mist

My Savior

The earth still resonates
Thumping heartbeats, your footsteps
Immaculate birth, distilled, royal purity
The unknown child emerged from a pristine infant
A kingdom laid sleeping, yet approaching
Harbinger of redemption, salvation
I seek you, I long for you
When did you realize who you are?
When was the veil of such grace lifted from your eyes, revealing ascension?
What stirred within you, bolstering your spirit, calling upon you?
You must have known, felt that presence, uplifting
Angels surrounding you, protecting until that time
It must have taken them apart, split their souls and their hearts to leave you be
My Savior, when did you awaken?
Or were you born wide awake, biding your time, the exaction of execution
To light that candle, that fervid fire that will never die
With pangs, aching hollow breast
I reach for you with tainted hands
Sin streams down from my eyes
As the old man falls away
To reveal a new
Everything has a reason and both are you

Some Days

Some days...

My heart seems heavy, burdened by some overbearing phantom of absolutely nothing.

Off-beat and jarring my chest every other second, leaving me breathless.

Some days...

My heart feels as if it were cast against a stone, shattered into many pieces.

And I’m left to gather them like dandelions in a basket upon my hands and knees.

Surely, the chambers of my heart aren’t hollow, echoing spoken prose…

So much like a seashell with centuries of the ocean’s waning and ebbing,

innocently discovered by the little boy that lives not so snug inside of me.

Some days...

My heart is light, softly thumping in rhythm with my spirit, with the universe.

What would I hear if I held my scarred heart to my own ringing ear?

Songs, hymns, ballads, an old blues guitar, a grand symphony…

or the voice of that little boy exclaiming “Look! I found it!”

An Untainted Hand

Evoked by a shadow, leaping from my head and beyond...

Darkest days, I reminisce and revisit some old pain, younger years leading up to now.

Changed, grown, becoming, evolving, but the dark I remember is now pierced.

It brings a slight smile and a slow tear fills my eye.

Like an old friend who comes calling, unannounced, bearing nothing but a handshake.

A brother’s hug, few words in passing, then that certain nod that only we brothers can understand…

That nod that says, “I must be going. I love you. I’ll miss you. Be strong and never forget what we have. Brothers are forever.”

An untainted, gentle hand pulled me from the deepest pit.

As I gazed up in anger, wracked with pain, sick with rage,my tongue coiled, drawn back, and striking.

Spitting poison without remorse, without discrimination.

Regardless of their love for me or their hate for me or their indifference.

My Savior cared enough about me, a solitary sinner, lost, sick, and broken.

Yet, Christ knew I needed Him.

Every day I thank my Precious Lord for everyone & everything He has given me.

There’s also a question of why…and I pray He forgives me for even asking.

What have I done to deserve all the blessings, all the gifts He gives me…?

It’s not my place to question His plans for me, just to have faith in Him.

I have walked, stumbling upon the jagged rocks of my hatred.

I have crawled, bloodied knees upon my blasphemous shattered dreams, desperately scrambling to pull the pieces back as they spread beyond my reach, knowing deep within my heart, within my spirit, my being that everything was wrong with my life except my ever-present protector and those He surrounded me with.

Still, and forever, His untainted, gentle hand pulls me up.

I feel His loving arms around me through those who love me, who believe in me unconditionally, especially when I don’t love me, and I don’t believe in me and I don’t love myself unconditionally.

I can and I will.

My love for Jesus Christ my Redeemer, my Protector is eternal.

Late Night TV

I cannot sleep
Late night television
Horrific train wreck
115 in the shade
Mangled landscape
Unnatural peaks & valleys claw at the noonday sky
They speak a language I cannot understand, no connection
Confusion, chaos
Lamentations, intense prayer fills the air like incense, weighing it down
Pressing into my eyes until I can no longer focus
Echoes haunt the alleyways
I saw death walking away, fat, gluttonous, obese
Content, as doves fell from the sky around him
Commercial break
It’s off, but the static remains in my head
I cannot sleep

Our Da-Da, who art in heaven...

My (almost 9) month old son is sick with a respiratory infection and I'm at home taking care of him. Poor fella is so pitiful at times, but always manages a sweet little smile from time to time letting me know he loves his Da-Da. I know he will be well soon and all will be fine, but he doesn't understand that. At times like this, I am reminded of how our Heavenly Da-Da takes care of us when we're not feeling well, whether it be physically OR otherwise. We tend to kick, cry, and scream our complaints. As Christians, we should also remember to do like my littlest boy; amidst the kicking, crying, and screaming, stretch out our arms and manage a smile for our Heavenly Da-Da. He knows we will be well soon and all will be fine. He's home with all of us everyday, changing our diapers and wiping our noses.