It Was a Mighty Wind This Morning

I have always yearned
for morning and its lessons.
There is an ease and a triumph
that lay waiting for those who wake,
for all who open and bare all for a glimpse
of God and her mighty choices, voices.
Who is this person devoid of reason,
yet living in season? It's perennial
but the world still spins manic.
When was the last time
you left to feel
the morning?

I Didn't Reread It

I was young there
In the sand and the morning
Bathed in gold and self awareness
I was timeless
As the tide comes so uncontrollably
Every wave with its historys
I was vast
And quite endless it would seem
Setting no limit on my eyes
I was lost
Knowing not the role to play
Understanding witness and participant
There in a prehistoric moment
I was more
               than one

To Our Refugees

I'll let you in
From the world when its cold
Taking all of your young and even your old
It's because I have been there
In the wind, I've been blown
Pain, joy, and tears
That's a life I have known
Come in
Come off out that road
There are many a sights and lights to behold
When you're out there and searching
And you're too tired to roam
I'll be smiling and crying and welcoming
you home
Maybe that understanding you never have known
You'll know
I'll let you in

Speak

Say nothing.
I have said the prayer
of salvation. And, I am in need
of only your silent eyes.
Say nothing
more to me of roses and red
fruits. Words will only sour our
understanding of this harvest.
Say nothing
and never utter that apologetic
watered down dessert. You serve
to only complete me in the solid.
Say nothing,
because that is credible and
truthful. Words will never be
held like this body. And you are
ardent with your hands.
Say nothing
more than what I can experience
in pain and in comfort. We agree only
in our sensations. Don't forget
to speak to me
and say nothing.

Coffee and Eggs

Am I sick or relatable
Animal or criminal
If sainthood's a fairytale
Does that make me justifiable
I'm here
I'm pliable
Ready for Christ to speak
But only where it's audible
For him to say I'm understandable
Not terrible
Go on
You're fine
You're not the one liable
I'm calm
I'm low
And it's all been survivable
It's possible
I'm valuable

Develop Too

The mornings are fine.
I can wake contently,
perhaps with relief
for the strength to do
one more day. I can push
those dreams into
their space, unheard again.
The mornings are fine.
I drink coffee ardently,
perhaps in search of
a new idea or potential
interpretation,
or an interpretation of
potential.
The evenings are hard,
sitting by that window
looking over and over again
out into the stillness.
It's the silence when
you hear the loudness
of unrequited hopefulness.
The evenings are hard.
I sip bourbon slow,
wondering why
I like the sting. Knowing
myself too much, I try
to reestablish
what I know,
who I know.

Sit.

Everything lost is
found. You are
never in control
of how high the moon
has been. Nature is and
will come at last
and too soon.