The
Hallways of hell
Must be
Littered with Lego's...

.

I’m caught in a game
Of hide-and-seek…

Where the run-from One
Haunts my every thought,
And calls out to me
With seductive roars

[And I know her too well;
I know her too often]

While the chase-after Other
Graces my every dream,
And dances upon the earth
With footsteps as soft as a whisper

[And, oh, this Other I long to know;
Oh, this Other I long to hold]

I’m caught in a game
Of hide-and-seek…

.

Though no stick
In the forest
Is perfectly
Straight

But are
Broken
And bent
And deteriorate

A Man
Comes around
Who loves
To create

And He takes
The crooked
And draws
Something straight

.

I heard it early on,
Shortly after birth...

That time when I was thrown
Into this place upon the earth

The constant, constant ticking,
The ticking of a clock

The day’s and hours clicking;
Tomorrow’s mental block

---

Sein-zum-Tode, I know her –
Pulling me ever closer

And pushing me ever further
From yesterday, once-over

Today, I hear it loudly;
Sometimes I hear it not

And thinking things profoundly:
This ticking has to stop

.

O’ Flowing Stream, smooth and calm,
How gentle are your waves

Oh, how refreshing is your taste;
Like crystal glass, your gaze

I came a long and weary way –
Walked through the deserts dry

And in the moment that my eye
Beheld your view I cried

---

I cried because my eyes then traced
Your course up to the Spring –

The Source beyond the mountain top,
Where blessings flow and bring

I saw a bright and lovely sight:
A plan in the Grand Scheme

Providence…it brought me here,
To drink – to sing – to dream

---

O’ Stream, now that I’m here with you,
I’m here with you to stay

I’ll make my home and plant a tree
Beside your waters way

I’ll watch it close and give it all
I can to help it grow

And trust the Source to ever-pour
That you may overflow

.

I love her more than yesterday,
Or any day before
And when the morning ‘morrow comes
I’ll sing this song once more…

.

Sometimes, time stands still…

And I see,
Behind her smile,

The smile of Another

.

I have looked
Into the face
Of a real-life
Monster

He came into view
When I could
Stare
No longer

I tried to catch him
Flinch,
But when he cringed
I pondered…

I have looked
Into the face
Of a real-life
Monster

.

Death was once my
Greatest fear,
Though life was filled
With sorrow –

Attended with
So many
Ills, and darker
Still tomorrow...

I knew if I
Were to Escape,
My soul,
I couldn’t save!

Because this ill
Within would sink
Me lower than
The Grave

.

That fateful day, It slipperily slunk,
The shrewd and crafty Beast

And with Its slithery tongue It struck
Two hearts, and hell released

A fateful day! A fateful dint!
…The Fall of the Beloved

But then and there One gave the hint
Of rescue from Above

---

That fateful day the Beast would bite
The heel of The Great King

But He, in turn, would crush Its head –
Death’s prisoners would sing:

“The fateful Day eternity told,  
Foreknown before the world!

The Lion came, brave and bold –
The Lamb slain from of old!”

---

And so, that fateful day was but
A part in the Grand Scheme

One fateful Day He’d come indeed
To ransom and redeem

That fateful Day upon a cross
He breathed His final breath:

“It is finished!” was His cry;
The death of death in death.

.

He cut off his feet...
But still wandered and strayed

Then gouged out his eyes...
But still burned for the maid

Then lopped off one hand...
But then saw an issue:

He could not complete
Sev'ring sin from his tissue

.

Planted upon Mount Zion
By the Ancient of Days:
A Magnificent Tree seen – beheld –
By withering grasses’ gaze

Seasons come, go, and change;
The Tree is here to stay
Withstanding time and weathering,
Won’t bend or ever fray...

Word is carried by the Wind,
Sent forth through gentle whispers:
"The Tree of Life is here indeed,
Let ears who hear be listeners"

Prepare the heart! Prepare the way!
Find Rest down by the River…
Where running sweet…is scarlet sap...
And fruit that will deliver...

.

Better a small spark of flame
From hot coals and ash
Than a great bolt of light
That goes out with a flash

.

The snow may cover,
But cannot ****,
The Life below

.

The clouds may obscure,
But cannot vanish,
The Sun above

.

Behold the King upon His throne
Who utters judgments set in stone
He gives the wicked what they earn:
The death for which their own hearts yearn

Though oft for filthy, guilty men
Whose sins no scribe could tell by pen
This King, in love, steps off His throne
And trades their rags for His own robe

.

Behold the Man who goes to see
The New Creation then set free
The place no sins or sorrows grow
The Promised Land to come aglow

Oh flee the gates of Babylon!
The ***** who feeds on her own spawn...
May Zion be your heav’nly home
The City where true lovers roam

.

Behold the dreadful Horns of Red
The Beasts who trample o’er the dead
Who roar and gore and raise their heads
In challenge to the One who bled –

The One who willfully was pierced
Whose will is strong, whose love is fierce
Who crushes Altars men revere
That they may see through their veneer

.

Behold the Man upon His steed
Who comes to comfort those in need…
Yea, in The Deep of fear and death
Where sons of Asaph hold their breath

He fashions rivers from The Sea
And sees the leaves of ev’ry tree…
Yea, even now, from Hollow Ground
New life is springing all around

.

O, son,
Whom I now hold in my arms,
Though I, from head to toe,
Am a broken man...

...I pray, only,
That you will find embrace
In the Arms
Holding me

.

Life is short
And time is borrowed;
“If freed today,
I’ll preach tomorrow”

...spoken from
His prison cell,
The faithful one
Who conquered hell

When kings and men
Put him to flight
He stood his ground
Without a fight

And gladly took
To shackles – chains –
To prove to all
His Faith remained

---

Life is short
And time is borrowed;
“If freed today,
I’ll preach tomorrow”

See, he had been a
Prisoner, freed,
From far more
Fearful enemies

The first of which
Was his own flesh:
A death which died
Its death in Death

The Death of the
Triumphant King –
The Holy One –
The King of kings!

---

The One who
Traded life for Life –
Who gave it all
And took the knife…

…that he would sing
Without a sorrow:
“If freed today,
I’ll preach tomorrow!”

.

Among the myrtles –
Yes, in between
A green, so fertile! –
A King was seen

Atop His stallion –
A chestnut red –
As His battalion
Patrolled ahead

Throughout all the earth
Both far and wide
Observing the mirth
But birthed by pride

The report came back,
“At rest! At rest!
By behest of Black!
Asleep; possessed!”

---

Among the myrtles –
Yes, in between
The deep, the gurgle! –
A King was seen

Atop His stallion –
A chestnut red –
As His battalion
Then stormed ahead

Throughout all the earth
Both far and wide
To silence the mirth
But birthed by pride

The report came back,
“Alas! Alas!
The quake; the crack!
Judgment has passed!”

---

Among the myrtles –
Yes, in between
A green, so fertile! –
A King was seen

Atop His stallion –
A chestnut red –
As His battalion
Awoke the dead

Throughout all the earth
Both far and wide
His reign making mirth
As death had died!

The report came back,
“At last! At last!
The captives are back!
Returned at last!”

---

At last! At last!
The captives are back!
Returned at last!
Returned at last…

.

We waited – waited – waited…
For that which
We knew
Not

Just killed the time till killing time…
With small and
Pointless
Talk

We seemed to ride upon a dream…
That faded with
Slow with
Time

And in the end, the curtains closed…
Without a
Reasoned
Rhyme

.

Weightless, he was
Bound to none –
A wispy, wandering
Wind

He danced upon his days
Like waves,
Without a ripple
In the end…

‘Cause times when he
Would come too close,
Feet nearly touching
Ground

He’d hide away
Into his dream
And scream
Without a sound

---

Weightless, he was
Bound to none –
A wispy, wandering
Wind

He felt no wonder
‘bout his life;
Nothing felt
Magnificent…

‘Cause nothing could
Command his heart
Or pull him down
To stand

So ‘ever he just
Drifted there
In fog and
Foreign land

---

Weightless, he was
Bound to none –
A wispy, wandering
Wind

He settled for a
Fairytale, but
Woke up feeling
Grim…

‘Cause deep within
The darkest depth –
An abyss of Truth
Suppressed

He knew that there was
More than this:
The “Ever-Expanding
Nothingness”

---

But…weightless, he was
Bound to none –
A wispy, wandering
Wind

.

Some of life's
Sweetest joys
Are intermingled with
Bitter sorrows,

Reminding me that

My hope lies
Above the horizon,
And my fears
Lag long behind

.

Part 1: JOY & SORROW

It was around 3am…

When I learned that the
Sweetest Joy
Could, simultaneously, be the
Bitterest Sorrow

As I held my newborn son, Ezra
Close to my chest [Joy]
As he was (inconsolably) screaming his head off
Just below my right ear! [Sorrow]

But, oh, Ezra himself is a single joy
Who outweighs 10,000 sorrows!

And his parents CANNOT IMAGINE
Life without him

(Though our bodies ache to know, again,
The comforts
And rest
Our past life afforded us)

---

Part 2: THE BABIES ON THE PORCH

We COULD NOT WAIT to introduce Ezra
To everyone (and anyone)!

And the first time we took him outside
Onto the front porch
To meet the neighbors,
The most curious thing happened:

The one-and-a-half year old neighbor girl, Remi –
Short for “Remington” (yes, named after the rifle!) –
Hobbled over with her Daddy,
And pointed to Ezra, and said, “Baby!”

And I smiled
And said
(In a high-pitched, baby-talk voice),
“Yeah, he’s a Baby…”

---

Part 3: “BABIES” TO BABIES

Later, I was replaying this interaction
In my head –
Amused by the irony
Of the situation:

That this one-and-a-half year old BABY
Identified a thing
Smaller and younger than HERSELF
As a “Baby!”

And I wondered if she knows that
SHE too is a Baby –

If she ever looks in the mirror,
And points to HERSELF,
And says,
“Baby!”

---

Part 4: BABY GIRLS & BABY DOLLS

And then, I recalled
Having witnessed this ironic phenomenon before…

…As I watched our friend’s little girl, Addy,
Pushing her baby doll in a toy stroller
Around her house
As if it was her Baby

And I thought about how amazing it is
That “pre-programmed” into little girls
Is the nurturing and emotional concern of
A Mother,

And that, it’s not uncommon to find
Baby girls
Pretending to be Mommy’s to their
Baby dolls

---

Part 5: THIS “BABY”

And then, I thought about myself
In relation to my Heavenly Father –

Who, in His Infinite Character,
And Bigness,
And Greater-Than-Us-Ness,
Is so unutterably HIGH above (and beyond) me…

And a thought popped into my head –
In the form of an absurd question:

“Are we all just ‘playing with dolls’?”

.

Sometimes more ought be reduced –
A selection of Best be made

For “many” and “much” make not a man,
Nor more of things the same

But something Good, and something True,
And frequent to it go

It’ll make a wise and learned man –
Devout and humble too

The News had then
Come by that day,
That there was cause
To sing

And sing, we did,
The Song of Life,
Like winter’s turn
To spring

The Song did never
Change a rhyme;
Its melody's still
The same…

And, daily, I will
Hear its tune,
Again, and
Then, proclaim

---

Because those things
Of cause to sing
Are News for
Every day

Like morning’s dawn,
When light returns,
And drives the
Clouds away

I sing Today
Of hope Tomorrow,
And joy for
Yesterday…

Though most of my
Old memories fade,
This Song is here
To stay

.

Two Cities, bitter enemies;
Two Cities, truest foes

The First was from eternity,
The Other from the shadow

The First descended from the sky,
The Other from the ground

The First had but a King on high,
The Other Creation crowned

Both Cities do contain the whole
But One contains it all

Both Cities do contain the whole
But One contains it all…

.

Listen, my son…

From the womb every man
Builds his cities and towers
From the strength of his hand
And a will that devours

But his kingdom’s a breath,
And his rule, an illusion,
Disappearing in death –
The revealing conclusion...

Man is "king" of a land
Between his right and left ears!
He thinks: "my throne is grand!"
But his decrees, no one hears!

He will gather great treasures,
But will never have any;
Will pursue many pleasures,
But will always feel empty…

Always longing for more,
Never having enough;
He’s a slave and a *****
To his master: his stuff

---

Oh, may The King set him free!
He alone holds the power!
And may all bend the knee,
For, we need Him each hour!

.

I don't even know your name,
But I think I know something of
The state of your soul,
My Dear Poet Friend...

For, we're all stricken with
The same disease

A poisonous venom
Which courses,
This very moment,
Through all our veins

A disease for which I have found
But One Cure

---

And I must warn you,
My Dear Poet Friend,
Not to look so long
Into your own heart

For, there you will only find
The disease

.

In the Garden, by the Creek,
Stands a Tree –
A Weary Willow, weeping, in
A prayerful plea:

“The scoffing Oaks hold
All their leaves,
But mine wither in this winter;
Don’t You see?!”

But, oh, what She
Doesn’t yet know
Is that, now, below the ground,
Growing down, and reaching out –

Hidden to sight or sound –
Are her Roots, preparing Her
To bear a thing no Oak has ever known:
Fruit.

---

So, may Her weeping turn to singing
For spring is bringing
A New Beginning
…In the Garden, by the Creek.

.

Once, when I looked
At “Things Unseen”
I saw Them not –
No in-between

For things that They
Said "stood in Light"
Were just as they
Had been to sight

And time and time,
And time again:
No, nothing new,
That had not been…

I felt the Sun
Upon my back,
But couldn’t turn
Away from black

---

But when I turned
(So unforeseen!),
I saw Him there!
And what a scene!

For things that They
Said "stood in Light"
Were just as they
Now were to sight!

Oh, time and time,
And time again,
My eyes had hid
In darkness’ dim…

I'd felt the Sun
Upon my back,
But now I’m turned
Away from black.

.

I saw an ocean of oceans…
Surrounding the Kings throne –
Like a mote
Of frozen glass

Transparent and crystal –
Shimmering and glimmering –
Like a tranquil,
Sunlit sea

But on the seas horizon
I saw Fire and Blood
Racing toward me,
Like horses prepared for battle

I yelled aloud to the King,
But my words
Were snatched up by the winds
Sweeping along the expanse!

My voice, and my life,
Were lost.

My hope, and my soul,
Were dead.

Suddenly, the King stood up,
And raised His arm –
Commanding the Fire into the sky,
And the Blood into the sea

And I watched the blood
Melt away the frozen glass
Until it was completely gone,
And there was no more sea

And I felt my heart
Burn within me,
As though the Blood had
Melted something in me

.

Flopping, flipping,
Flattering lips
Are the company
Of fools

Or worse:
A bitter enemy,
Who conceals a heart
So cruel

But words of truth -
Even bold rebukes -  
Do accompany
The wise

They are a friend,
And will find favor in,
The men of
Righteous eyes

.

Morning by morning
I wake to the glow
Of the Yellow Sun warming
The frost on the window

Melting away
All that keeps me from seeing
The dawn of The Day,
And deceptions of dreaming...

.

I remember...

The night my Daddy gave me his t-shirt,
And I wore it to bed

It smelled like him,
It felt like him,
It clothed me totally,
And made me feel so small

And now, it was mine!
And I loved it so...

And Daddy said to me:
"One day, you'll grow up into Daddy's t-shirt..."

But the years came and went,
And Daddy's t-shirt still didn't fit...

...More and more so,
But never perfect

And even today,
As I've become a Daddy myself,
My Daddy's t-shirt wears quite large

But it's still mine.

And it still covers me.

And I remember what Daddy said,
And this I know with all my heart:

One day, it shall fit perfectly.

.

Through the darkest night,
In the midst of ash
Ahead of its time –
Where the blackest black
Of filth and fire
Consume, devour – repeat…

A Light shines.

And while fools
Dance with death
To the tune of
An evil they call “good” –
Grinding their teeth
To curse and boast…

A Voice sings.

And as the earth groans –
Aching under the weight of
The birth of many children
Called “Destruction,”
Who've grown to eat and ****
Their own…

A King reigns.

.

The fruits of greatest striving –
Deep things for which we pray –
We find preserved and thriving
When we give them away

.

Bless me not with
Rings and things!

Oh, bless me not
With wealth!

Bless me not with
Pow’r of kings!

But bless me by
Thyself…

…For anything
That tempteth

Mine heart away
From Love –

Yea, life itself
To part with! –

If rest not but
Above.

.

I take no comfort
In anything apart from
My rest in Your arms

.

Alice, through the looking glass
I saw her fair, I saw her fast
Her smile like the distant past –
A mem’ry safe and sure to last…
---
But suddenly her smile turned
Her stomach ached, and quaked, and churned
And sweat rolled off her brows that burned
When, in that moment, this she learned:

That deep within that pretty face,
A haunting, hideous, out of place –
Dark and dreadful, dreary trace
Of ash and gnashing was innate

Innate in her! She saw it so!
A pushing – pulling – undertow!
Inclining toward the hollow glow
Of outer show, the inner woe
---
Alice, through the looking glass
I saw her fair, I saw her fast
Her smile like the distant past –
A mem’ry fading when she passed…
---
When she did pass from death to life
Beholding pure and perfect Light
Without a sight, but in the night
When sun arose, and shone so bright

So bright that every Darkness did
Fly and flee – it scattered, hid
From deep within her heart that bid
Her to remain in shadowed sin

Yes, He – the Good, the Faithful, True!
Made her new – through and through!
And Alice, she’s the hopeful view
In the looking glass: me and you.
---
Alice, through the looking glass
I saw her fair, I saw her fast
Her smile like the distant past –
A mem’ry safe and sure to last…

.