Shallow roots of entwined
community. Disciples sturdy
with faith,
raise branches
Sunward in worship.
Posts Categorized: poetry
I dance where there is no music,
I sing when there is no song,
I cry out when there are no words, and…
I am silent when the world is shouting out!
I heal when there is no medicine,
I carry your burdens when others put them down,
I love when others hate me, and
I forgive when I should keep a record of wrongs.
I live when death surrounds me, and
I die to self to preserve your life.
(Poem written in the early days of grief)
Trace the curves of Virtue,
She softens your soul
with her joy, and kneads
stresses away with her
attentive ear.
How tenderly she leans into your perspective,
and fills your world with fresh fragrance.
Cradle her heart
like a valuable valentine–
You are nurturing the heart of God.
Graves, ripe with blossoms,
always freshly planted in
our minds.
Depression is a pickpocket,
Pinching souls of pluck.
Hope, lit in abstract is easily
Snuffed out by passionate loneliness.
Attempts to breathe, clotted by
veins scarred by sorrow.
Eyes, scaled by experience and
Belief,
Closed in sleep against the cruelties
Of the world.
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I’m not afraid to climb into the ditch with you,
I’ve dug this grave before.
Grave digger turned grave robber.
Joined, a band of brothers and sisters, saturated
In the oil of faith,
searching tombs of darkness for a pulse, because you matter
To me.
The torch of our souls leaning close to
living corpses already making beds of graves.
Relentless in calling Lazarus from the
tomb. It is not your time yet.
I am hope, concrete with dirty fingers.
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Evidence of grit–
Heels dug into turf
in repetitive resilience.
Battered souls
wilted weary
by devastating
defeats.
Coached back up
to the surprise of
of our enemy’s doggedness.
Shoulders pressed forward
against all odds.
Hope faithfully
gains ground with eyes
firmly fixed on the end
zone of belief.
Packaged patiently within pain
is the gift of possibility.
Unopened. . . or open does not change content.
Bitterness and despair torn open and discarded,
like a shiny exoskeleton no longer attractive.
My passion–hope secreted within the gift of sorrow.
Luke 10:41But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, 42but one thing is necessary.
Mind distracted by obligation,
hands and heart
splintered bitter in our scrambling to sustain
God,
who chooses to dwell with us.
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“Relate to me.
Receive my love Martha.
Sit with me and
Unwrap my presence.
I am your satisfaction, your great reward.
Need nothing more.”
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Popsicle photos
and fragrant fir
open gift wrapped grief.
National Suicide Hotline
If you or a loved one are in immediate danger, call the National Suicide Lifeline at 988 or go to the website at https://988lifeline.org/