Spring flowers bloomed conception,

as she carried a force with umbilical connection.

Sang songs of familial relations,

until snowflakes glistened the new life cascade.

A frigid orange air whispered secrets better left to a howl.


he was comfortably cared for.

Mature trees blistered blood-stains

above impubescent seedlings.

As seasons altered and changed,

adolescent scents choked out hope,

pollinating the atmosphere with songs of red age.

Connection disconcerted

confounded by careless captions,


lyrics of hate.

Sixteen years passed,


they found themselves at an impasse.

Ripped her out of the present,

a forced recollection of the past.

Joy rendered fantasy,

clouded by dissonant breath.

How ironic –

She: granted life

He: returned death.

“I’m sorry


You gifted me with sight,

how dare I not see

the Christ in you,

reflecting mercy on me.”

Forgiven for all said

and left



Harmony falls, like Autumn, from trees,

while expectation sprouts legs – be free!

Under the same season’s sun

hope journeys forward and on,

to an orange-chorded sea

where meaning is tanned

by photosynthetic minds.

With new life emerging

out of murky red shorelines.

Thank you.

I love you, too.


Death is Dead

Oh, death.
I dare you to bring your sting!
But you can’t,
and that’s why we sing:

Death will hold no power.

Death – you’re a snake with no venom,
a feline lacking your claws.
You will strike everyone, but you can’t kill us all.
Jesus lives, His love greater than death.
We give Him praise,
long after our final breath.

With triumphal music we swoon and swing,
“Jesus is King, not this petty death thing.”

Taking life in order to give it
in the name of your bloodline
and name sake.

A genetic legacy,
trampling choice,
putting out the fire
of true love.

Thousands dead every hour
still you conceive more;
selfish pursuit.

Don’t say you care
because you spent
2 weeks in
a city.

Prove it.

Control your loins.

Care for existence.
Not nonexistence.


Another man with a cloudy head
Wants to go somewhere,
doesn’t know where.
Traveling all the time,
no destination in sight.
Foreign feelings fill his lungs
as he treads along new valleys,
ruminating on old.

Too caught up in past experience
to embrace his here and now.
Is it really his to claim?
Made for community
not isolation.

Thriving on the inspiration of others’,
he seeks to be known by knowing.
Pursuing a love
pursuing a hate
relationship with his own selfish thoughts.
Letting go in order to hold on
seeking to understand himself and his god.

He just wants to be loved,
to have love
to give love.
He just wants god.


Fixed or Broken?

They fixed your brain when you were young
Long before you were born
Sought to bring about the ideal
without your say.
They fixed your brain when you were young
Long after you were born
Reinforced by those around you love
and who love you.

Break it.

May: A Second Look

The introduction to the introduction to the interlude
But oh, I can’t stand to wait
Let me sit
and ruminate
On what could and could not be
All direction is a misdirection
I’ll forgive the signs that got me here
Because I am here
(Not there)

Movement: a conflagration of confused forward motions
Vulnerability: standing naked before the mirror
constructed by everyone I know and I fear

Anxiety: how fragile it is after all
Hope: how worth it is after all
even if it falls apart, it’s a mess worth making

Life: oh dear.
I’m here.
Although I fear –
You’re here.
We’re here.

Be still.