Thursday, January 28, 2010

a poem he sent me today

I fell in love with the ocean
and I think of you every
time I look out over it and

always will that's where I'm
going that's where I'll be

waiting when the time
is right I meant what I said
and I always will now that
I understand real God given

soul connected love I'll be
there It's not easy to follow
Him sometimes

but you will find your way
but it won't be back to me it'll

be ahead and above

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

You stopped running.

I go faster and faster.
I stumble, skin my knees;
my hips and ankles ache.

I move, and
though I take lots of rests,
I move again.

When I saw you weren't
beside me anymore, I called
and called.

I am still calling.
I can't wait for you to catch up.

Even if I don't ever
hear your shoes thud,
your breathing, even if
I can't ever see your eyes again,
my pace won't falter.

Sidewalks and asphalt
rocky paths and fallen trees
dirt trails and sandy walkways-
He told me to keep walking,

so that's what I do,
and I pray God breathes into you
once more,
and you will be there,
running next to me again.

Friday, January 22, 2010

re-vision

There's something called discernment,
and it's hard to have from 521 miles away.

It's tough to believe you from that far,
and I want to believe

every single word, from trust to sister
but the rain hasn't come, and neither

has the light, only the waiting.

It's about time for me to stop looking
at you, not being able to see that far
anyway,

turn off the sound, and the picture,
and live in the light of today.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Fear Not

Just because people make drugs out of household cleaning products and
over-the-counter meds aren't anymore,

just because there are babies born addicted,

just because they are taking over whole neighborhoods
and towns with guns, white powder, and they are
stealing loose change from a car
breaking into a broken down trailer with 16 cats and 3 dogs
knowing where the rent money is stashed

just because some say it's the "end times"

and there are houses reeking of poison and piss

doesn't mean laughter
no longer exists

doesn't mean God is dead,

and when you plan to save them,
what do I do but sit and pray,
keep walking,
and stand out of your way?

Friday, January 15, 2010

the fast

There's prayer
in the apple
the orange juice
and the broccoli,
the spinach and the
water.

Daniel refused the
King's wine and meat,
and so can I.

When I am with God
things change. My
belly calls, and
only He can answer.

Tears wash my face,
and there is no milk
in the mixture.
I don't need it.

There are never any pieces
of me left when I end
up down there,
knees digging in.

I am calm, until I
climb out
longing for the noise
of men.

Their sounds snake around me,
and my knee holes fill up
with thoughts.

I can't keep them.
They aren't mine.

Listening to Him is hard,
and I get distracted
by the pretty faces,
so prominent,
but not available.

He's sweetly whispering,
constantly,
and I can only ignore for
so long

only sleep for
so many hours
until my empty belly
wakes me

and I can only fill it
when I'm
on my knees.