Monthly Archives: February 2018

Warmth Borrowed

I’ve walked these streets
Since my bare childlike feet
Stumbled unknowingly
Over glass and stone
So desperately alone
In my blood and my bones
Within throngs of hardened faces.
I still remember these spaces,
Hungry and graceless,
Exploring, hoping to discover-
To unearth, to expose, or uncover
Some version of safe, or love, or
Home.

Home- that secret fantasy repeating
In all the orphans’ tiny beating
Hearts- ever keeping
The fire kindled, the native
But long forgotten language
Like the memory of a pledge
Not yet redeemed,
But always blooming unseen
In the hidden depths of dreams,
And hopes fallen as wilted petals,
Blackened by the cold metals
Of bustling souls and pedestals
And ashes.

I looked up but once, I know,
There in the window, a glow
Of candles, and smoldering souls
Sharing some spark of smile,
Of tender warmth, and I, beguiled,
Lost the hard miles,
The frostbite, the feet that bled,
The serpentine paths that led
Through frigid humanity- instead
I fell in love with all I saw through the glass
A world unknown, unsurpassed,
Beyond my grasp,

But the only thing I’ve ever seen.

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Proximity

I called on You last night,
And You were there.
Closer than a brother, fairer
Than ten thousand- mighty,
And tender.

They tell me how to speak,
How You would have me,
All reverence, or all intimacy,
As the King, or the Seeker,
Or the Savior

Narrow forms of appeal
And I quake with fear,
But You play no Lear
To my clumsy Cordelia
Or my calls,

Through all their intimidation,
I cannot remain unspoken-
I call on You as one broken
In childlike trembles of desperation
Looking for a Father

And You’ve never waxed pernicious
In my improprieties,
So patient with all of these,
And ever the God with us-
With me.

I called on You last night
As just me to only You,
As with all else we’ve been through
You showed up and made it right,

Looking at me through You
That I may be lovely in Your sight.


Pass the Time

Passing time
Like the proverbial buck,
Down in the mouth,
Down on my luck,

And checked out.

Passing time
Onto someone else’s shoulders,
Easier still than making the most
Of growing older,

And numbering my days.

Passing time
Like a passerby,
Wasting smiles, wasting miles,
Wasting the days until I die

Working so hard to pass the time
As though it exists in endless supply.