something…

well, I didn’t save the world today,
but I did bake bread,
and that, I think,
is something.

Yours

I remember as a child the afternoon sky growing dark as twilight
beneath the shadow of summer thunderheads,
and dashing out to play in fields
of tall yellow grass and crackling bracken.
breathing air thick with the smell of storm,
drinking wind that fretted the wilted heads of wild flowers,
I and the whole earth with me seemed to sigh
with the expectation of rain.
now that I am older, I hear You calling me
to walk again the open, windy places,
to step out of safety and into the storm,
and find that I am not made out of sugar and salt.
I am not some chill, frightened thing
to hide in a hole from the beauty and violence
of whatever Your hand lets fall.
no, I am like the trees that sway and dance under the tempest,
I am the drought-thirsty earth hungry for water,
I am a violet stretching upward to catch each drop and draw it in—
I am Yours, and I am not afraid.

hope

in very early spring, when it is still cold
and everything is soaked in a chill rain,
the birds sit in the bare branches and sing

simplify me, please

simplify me, please.
my heart is a rope knotted and tied tight,
my strength is a pit bull frothing on a choke chain,
my mind is a heavy, ticking machine of unfathomable purpose.
simplify me, please.
gather up these scattered shreds of me and set them alight,
turn them to smoke in the gentle breeze of Your grace,
waft them up into far places I don’t care to ever find.
let me be some still, small thing
at rest in Your presence,
at peace,
and simple.

in Your eyes

who was I in Your eyes
before I ever took a breath?
what was my first blue print,
first draft, first sketch?
is my loose-tied frame
still hung on Your intention?
or has my heart fallen deep
into a cage of my invention?
am I to fly arrow-true
the desired path of Your sight?
or am I a little sparrow
free to take my own flight?
am I a rat to You, that I
should stumble blindly in a maze?
or am I Your chosen champion
to run my race, and shout Your praise?
who was I in Your eyes
before we ever met?
and whom have I become
that You should think of me yet?

you can’t take my name

you’ll never make me break
’cause you can’t take my name.
you can’t conceive of a God
that you could never tame.
and you can’t take my soul
and you can’t take my song.
you might beat me down
but you will never prove me wrong.
I’ll never be your toy.
I’ll never be your slave.
you can’t keep me in control
’cause you have nothing that I crave.
no, you can’t take my name.

anchored

I want to tumble over prairie
and drink the desert stars
I want a deeper pool of memories
I want to carry deeper scars
I want to hurl against the mountains
and batter on the stones
test my fists against the earth itself
and gnaw its tired bones
I want to feel the cold, gray morning
like a gull upon the beach
to hush my humming thoughts
and learn what silence has to teach
run my fingers over river stones
and sense my Father’s hand
tear away from all this rushing race
and find an open space to stand…
just stand, and breathe, and feel the wind,
and listen to the birds…
alive, awake, alone, untouched,
at peace at last, and anchored.

I wonder if this was what they had in mind

some odd thousands of years ago
man became master of fire
and today
I light a cigarette

strange to think…

is it not strange to think
of the way our souls
live in our bodies
to think that our hearts
are the only vessels strong enough
to cradle them
to think that the material world
for all its bulk, is finite
but the glimmer in your lover’s eyes
could be plumbed forever

waiting for You

even as my heart is breaking for the crippling agonies I see
in every passing face, in every hidden mysterious heart
even as my tears are falling for the ignorance
the arrogance, the violence
of a people created for loveliness and power
and even as I curl my fist in anger
at an Enemy that sows confusion and despair
into souls so beautiful and infinite that not even the universe
in all its glittering array, could contain the glory of a single one
even as I stand still
within the spinning madness of what we have become
my eyes are lifted
my hands outstretched
I am waiting for the rain
I am waiting for You