There is a gentle stillness
a quiet surrendering
a lingering calm
where I long to stay
before the quiet wave
of evening
becomes too soon
another day

Father, draw me close
enfold my weariness
and give me peace,
surrendered.
And tomorrow when I wake
grant your Holy Spirit
to face the battle strong,
I pray

unripe
one slender shoot
growing through the
shadows of serpentine weeds
the blackest of stones
blinded
in shrouds of whole brilliant suns
nectarine fire in tongues of holy flame
in the grain of dormant seeds
within creatures
sleeping, waiting to be saved

why do the trees hug the shoreline so closely?
in twists of tangled arms
green flags, sprouting twigs
the lonely glare, floating in between the mirrored
crisp fractals of light
sliced into the blue deep
a tiny paper boat, sprigged with daisies
sailing the horizon
balancing an endless tightrope
tipping into the pulsing heart of the sky
over the edge
of the world.