solitude

time after time
i roll into rhyme
rockin the world
forgetting my lines

time after time
i long for a mime
to push me away
to force me to stay

to be

eyes shut all i hear are
the birds in the trees
and i weep
nature's oils pour down
wash my feet

i stand
prepared and planned
to make amends, change the land
when i'm told in the silence

i'm to care for this garden
eternally

forget-me-nots

we long for your love
to grow old as an oak entwined in
blue petals
we long for your love to know the
pain of being stripped down to bare
the scare of being alone again -- for a moment
then the reunion dance that lasts till wee morn.
we long for your love
to explore ocean depths
skies high and mountains jagged and old
newborn dreams oldtime nostalgias
and continually meshing your fingers together
in case today's the day
you start to survive marriage without
holding hands
avoid that day at all costs
even the cost of the kiss
just to remember
who's holding you
who's wearing your ring
who would cut of his hand for you
we long for your love to conquer
we long for your love to prevail
and at the end of the day
we long for you to be
wrinkled little forget-me-nots
forgettting not your love
forever

key to peace

scarf flailing in northern winds
i stand on ice my white dress wrapped tight
white face alight with
my newfound madness

'i'm not afraid anymore'
i whisper like Materia said to the sea in
'Falling on Knees'
stepping over cracks the frozen chinks and
reaching up
begging peace

'i must
know more of you
getting too wrapped up in me'
i cry to the heavens

god in flesh walks towards me
his scarf red and white
kindly eyes no surprise
he curses my fright, invokes delight
and leaves
behind a key

'unlock sanity and find
me'
he yells
then turns and
rebukes the storm

daddy's here

(dedicated to Jessica Ronan)

last night i watched a daughter and her father reunite. 14 years apart. 14 years of silent questions and late-night sorrow. he took her hand in his worn one, peered into her eyes over his coffee begging her to believe he wasn't bad. wasn't the monster she'd tried to scratch out of her memories. wasn't the man her mother said he was. 'i want to see you tomorrow night, and the next night, and the next,' he croaked. a lone tear traced his weathered cheek, she sat there in 16-year-old awkwardness not sure how to handle this weeping man. 'i will always be here for you, she can't come between us anymore,' he said, and his daughter wilted. platinum hair sheltered the tiny red-headed girl he'd lost so long ago. her face began to crumble like the muffin in her hands, and he held her, whispering 'daddy's here.'

in the darkness

God help me see you
in the crevices of humanity
the worn-out walkways
the resounding gong of feeble cathedrals
the masses of mildewing murmerers
each believing you hear her

help me see you
in my mother's tired eyes
shaky hands and fragile sighs
the doctor's entrusted tools
the sobbing of a woman come apart
forced to wear a wig and then embark
on a new faith-walk with you

help me see

prayer of an insomniac

i used to hear your voice. now it's shrouded in darkness i'm in a cocoon desperately tearing at the webbing what are you saying? why am i awake inside this black tomb? why can't i sleep? what are you whispering? clean out my ears rid of my fears this paranoia weaving layers about me help me break out of my ignorance to fly into the light of day on butterfly wings.

amy's song

voice of a lark
candle in the dark

friend of the heart
maiden to embark

on a journey of the soul
prepare to play a role

demanding time and toll
creating rhyme and roll

a legacy
of lyrics
sung
only by
you

shera

girl of
gold
bend your
knee
send your
pleas
forever to a
faithful
God

girl of
gold
defend the
creed
lend your
deeds
and fasten your
eyes to the
cross

girl of
gold
plant loving
seeds
tend quick to
weeds
and peace will
bloom from
sod

matchstick girls

ordinarily i thrive on jogging. this morning was different. cold winds had frosted the glass, the floor was ice, and i puffed out clouds of air like a chronic smoker. scarf wrapped tightly around my face, eyes squinty blue, i set out on the longest run of my life. all the while dreaming of hot cocoa. all the while forgetting about the tiny machstick girls who didn't make it through the night.

prayer

lifted on wings of faith i soar unaware of the lions' roar fixated on the shores where my home is in store
hold me up with your words! closing my eyes, surprised yet wise to the way i am carried in the air
don't let me fall! i call to the people below their hands raised high like a steeple to the skies crying Lord
coming home to the throne i land on my knees in a place of pure peace my soul unfolds before me
and prayer becomes the art of conversation

valentine's

sugar-coated candy hearts
fail to capture, or impart
the way a wrinkled man and wife
snuggle down to spend their life
till death's dark voice declares them gone
a plaintive cry, a sad swan's song

paper cards and fancy rings
fail to give an offering ... the way
a homeless woman can
when her last crumbs she gives her man
the way a single mom displays when
her spare time she gives away

a sweet caress
of pure kindness
an act of selfless love

zombie

sleep taunts me like
the scent of
bread does a hungry stomach
extending my arm
reaching -- in vain
i try to wrap my fingers
around an elusive concept
i used to
take for
granted

child of the night

your eyes are hazel holes of sadness; your mouth faint with the smiles of yesterday
you're but 16 yet the lines in your forehead tell me age means nothing. i'm sitting with you on your patch of the globe
trying to understand crying to help you stand again in this place of patched-up sorrows, dying to help you see there's a beautiful land waiting beyond the clouds.
once the veil is ripped, you catch a glimpse of eternity and the smiles of yesterday become today's and you weep knowing the sun will soon rise on your dark little island of pain.

crumbling

she's quiet, folded up inside of herself
but when she laughs, her skin crumbles her eyes explode
and fire dances in her bones

if only she would laugh more often
little lady of the streets with denim skirt and frizzy hair
but so often she just sits and stares

if only we could buy laughter in a box
for medicinal purposes only
(but then perhaps it would be cheapened?)

still i can't help but think it would be best
if we all crumbled
a little more often

use me

use me today to save a life, spare some strife, be a wife who
derives significance from being

use me today to be a friend make amends change the lens
of someone in dark despair

use me today to laugh outloud appease the crowd lift the shroud
from your dark tomb sweet Jesus

use me today to cast out fear render cheer then disappear
while you arise in my place

field of dreams

humanity: just pieces of grass flailing frantically bent and yellowed broken trampled. together we're a lush meadow. alone, we're fragile, flimsy, gone with the wind. dear Gardener: fertilize these roots, water our soiled souls and keep our heads held high amidst the storm. make us your field of dreams.

homeless

sheltered by
four walls
i find myself
homeless
an earthly street kid
longing for a
Father's
embrace
in a heavenly
space

hasten the day
when we go
home
to stay
forever

until then i'll
sit in my corner
of the world
keeping
company
with other
orphans

finding myself ... in you

'i am not here to realize myself, but to know my God'
something penned by oswald chambers.
something that reassures me in dark hours of anonymity.
i fear being ignored
how much more should i fear losing Him!
forgive me father for succumbing to a world of
brand-names
for wanting to be
branded
for looking for myself in all the wrong places.
if i were to know you, i would know me.
and that would be enough.
ideally.

banality

we're all sitting in our dark little holes
burrowed under painful dirt
waiting to be lifted out dusted off
set back on our feet

only to fall once more.
longing for this banal existence
to end with heaven's final descent
salvation from this hell-hole.

hurry
Jesus.

painter

draped in my smock
paint brush in hand
i boldly depict hope
splashing colour on drudgery

stripped of my smock
bared of my brush
i am nothing but a blank canvas
longing to be used