I went to the meadow to find God. The cosmos, coneflowers, and yarrow testified of your kindness, and preached to me of your goodness. The deer and the rabbit shared stories of your generous hand, and the morning dew told of how you resurrected it every morning. (Lazarus was easy.) The river was wild with … Continue reading sea/salvation
there are times when you desire the hand of God, and not just his Face. how lovely is your face! I have found no imperfection. but I desire more. I desire to have you hold me, touch me, kiss me. your face is veiled, and mine is burned. flames came out from your mouth and … Continue reading times/seasons
I wish I was like other boys. But then who would cry these tears? I just want to love people. But I rarely am brave enough to let others love me. Maybe they can love me when I’m six feet under. At least I won’t have to feel awkward then. I don’t want sex as … Continue reading Mara
dark-haired boy, locks and laughter intertwined, what a friend you were. though I feared you at first, you became a safe haven, a beacon of hope, a place to stand. where did you go? your hair grew, and your soul did too. maybe mine was too tired to keep up. once we talked of everything, … Continue reading the weather
the kind of silence that makes you feel more than okay is the type of silence that I want to feel in the mornings after I wake up having wrestled in the night wrestled in the sheets with no one but myself and a couple of unknown spirits does this silence come from God or … Continue reading eden unknown
Fire To Moses, Death To His Body
My hands long for what mind cannot breach. My own intellect rages and roars, Lonely dogs in a cage made for rats. Why must you make finding you such a chase? You who are Spirit and Body, Mind, Three in one, Me like you. Split every atom that makes me, And then maybe I could … Continue reading Fire To Moses, Death To His Body
christmas morning and sunday afternoons, evening walks, and rainy mornings feel different when you are one, and not two. surely my hands are made for better things than being shoved into my pockets. surely my voice was made to speak, my mind to adore, my eyes to gaze. mind craves mind like the body craves … Continue reading sunday afternoons
but the children eat freely.
my heart cries out to you, YAH!the ancient living One!the One in whom there is no deceit!the greatest Judge, Father-friend! my particles long for friendly fire, long to be destroyed by loveheavier than galaxies, presence from millennia ago, yet fresh as a mother’s milk. Holy Christ, do I, a dog, dare lick the blood from your wounds, and this to my own benefit? how can … Continue reading but the children eat freely.
DEATH, A LOCOMOTIVE
One thought has bent blood in me recently: what will it feel like to be loved by an infinite God in eternity? What level of ecstasy awaits those faithful ones, who survive the pillages and plights of this earth, to be granted their eternal home in a dimension and time not yet realized? When I … Continue reading DEATH, A LOCOMOTIVE
Donald Trump, King of the Christians
As I begin writing this, Clear the Stage, a song that brings me back to days of middle and high school, plays in the background. And it’s fitting, because the song’s theme, idolatry and repentance, are particularly on my mind this evening. I’ll try not to be lengthy, but there’s quite a bit on my … Continue reading Donald Trump, King of the Christians