Rightness travels in a bus,
Holding a yellow pole,
Waiting for its stop.
The scenery speeds by,
My interiority bleeding open,
  yet never slowing,
      forever lost.
On the rail tracks of my God,
I blink, zoom out my gaze,
And see all of the souls,
Provided and beautiful,
Sitting patiently beside me—
A gift to grow in Spirit
Before I’m ready for the station
   impatiently awaited,
        sitting in dusk.

Distraction from truth—
I waited in bird calls,
Hoarding sensitivity.
Did I respond,
Or only become glass,
Fragile and hidden,
Afraid to step outside
For fear of breaking?

Dresses pushing prams,
The evidence of life
And its rotation.
Girls showing their insecurity
On exposed skin,
Walking the path
Towards the world’s

Low-hanging validation.

Outside of the motion,
Eyes an X-ray to the soul,
I watched the hearts
On the left side of their bodies
Move up and down,
With every breath, every step,
And I thought aloud.
Where would my words go
If no one ever heard them?

Clouds coming in,
Soft and pink,
Like the curtains in a nursery
For a baby who never came.
Did she still hear the lies
In her head,
Even as an infant?

There was a part of me
That did not want to know.
There was another that
Imagined the mother,
Full of rocks at a shoreline,
Her body a mesh enclosure,
Weighed down as the waves
Of grief washed over her,
Again and again,
Until she was only the sand
People collected on vacations.

I’ve gotten carried away,
But I know, somewhere,
A girl looks at these clouds,
And sees her sorrow
Held in God’s hands of sunset,
Coddling the child in softness,
Before, through, and after the rain.

Circles of grandma’s nails,
Round and round along my back--
“Cumbaya, my Lord,’
A melody on rewind.
The blinds flashed with lightning,
Shedding light on the quaint room,
Childhood in the textile details—
“I love you.”
My response quenched by salt,
The thoughts I was trying to shut off,
“I’ll see you soon.”
Wet pillowcase and itchy hair,
Forced breathing lifted to prayer—
All is well.
Slanted outlets, a bursting suitcase,
The smell of eucalyptus,
Crisp on a two dollar coin—
“Did you forget anything?”
Yes, only you.
A bundle of memories my mind
Decided to discard without consent,
Forever scrambling to grip
The dregs of what maybe was—
“I love you to the moon
and back”
I finally said, asleep in pieces,
A little girl, crying again.

Beer-soaked sweatshirt,
A rainbow of paw prints—
A gentle heart
Opened to the sky,
Vulnerable and beating—
The floors awash in gray,
Unfeeling in the waiting.
The wheel intangible
In my hands as I drive,
Rushing home to retrieve
The shoes I forgot
In red-lighted emergency—
Two ambulances amplified
The night turned cold,
In something unexpected.

Even as I feel tangible things,
Connection beyond imagined,
The reality of a life I do not deserve
Fades away, touching the horizon, only
A rosy haze of broken seashells,
Thoughts and blessings becoming one.
Deep reds and shadowed burgundies,
Faces of daises and laughs of green,
The colors coincide as the sky expands,
And I only feel my Father’s hand on me.

Father, You say I will find rest
If I am burdened and weary—
But what if my burdens
Are imagined?
I am surrounded by Your grace,
Held tight by glowing circumstances,
Yet I search for the strands
Of doubt, of anxiety, and
Torment myself with the thought
That if I rest, I will fail You.

I feel the wrongness
In realization--
Safe on a small ottoman,
Memories aching--
They are yet to be made.
I worry they never will be.
My heart stutters,
The first awakening,
Panic sets in as I return
To the film set of my mistakes--
The tape begins rolling.
Take one, take two,
How can you stop a polaroid
From forming
Once the flash has gone off?
I worry my lessons learned
Are not enough.
Hide my face, pretend not to
See him enter the room--
I know,
I cannot
hide my heart
from You.

A vacancy of support,
Sweetness submerged,
A saving grace
In the tug of a door--
Melodies over currents,
An angel on her back,
Meeting her Lord.

Steeped in the floodgates of Heaven,
Droplets of joy, of forgotten memories,
Rain down, drenching, all-consuming—
Head tipped back, arms outstretched,
Surrounded by the crash of heartache.
Perfection mingling with humanity, tears
Beating pleas of grace and compassion
Into the stained minds on the sidewalk.

Sending out doves,
Hopes on a shelf,
Past momentos
Gathered in dust,
The state of myself,
Immobile in mess,
Watching windows
For every answer,
Sunken deep under
Paralyzed duress.

I let the anxiety crash over me,
Like a barreling wave—
The whitewash dragging me under,
My body a helpless doll
FIlled with the question of “up.”
My eyes stung from the salt
And my hair lassoed my throat,
Until I had no choice
But to succomb to the ravaging
And hope that I would, someday,
   come up for air.

The sharp corners of a door frame,
A body of hesitancy,
The tip of a shoe teetering,
Head caught in the claws of direction.
One wrong step,
And the corners curve,
Becoming an elegant arch,
A glance and a head tilt,
Wondering the source of fear preceding,
Blinded by internalization.
Clarity comes from recognizing
The extended hand
Beckoning from one side of decision.

Scared.
The word falls,
Reaching for reassurance,
Unable to leave,
Yet rolling off the tongue.

Help.
The word fumbles,
Unsure of its own meaning,
Desperate,
Begging to go back inside.

Jesus.
The love kneels,
Drawing close to weakness,
Healing strength
Living in us; we need only ask.

My tears slid under the door
And unlocked its hinge,
Control shaking my fingers,
Finally worn out.

The compassionate *****
Of my Father’s shoulders
Lowered to my level,
Stilling the tremors.

Ramshackle debris of Me
Littered the space,
The results of my own failed,
Selfish attempts.

I handed it to Him, the mess
Of the Room I was afraid
He would devestate, feeling
Only deep relief.

A sodden dullness,
A damp rag over my eyes,
Sinking into my forehead.
It covered the aching
Boasting its reign over
My dilapidated mind.

A warm hand swept
Over my skin, checking
It’s rising temperature.
The back of a hand
Gentle on a burning head,
Replacing the towel
I had used to solve my
Own ignored problems—

Was it better to feel
Everything at once,
Or nothing at all?
The thoughts began to
Dwindle, dust in early
Light, until my mind
Was so numb to the
Pain, I couldn’t feel
My Savior’s love.

I blocked out the bad,
The unthinkable, and
Ceaselessly sealed
The cracks in my wall—
How did I wonder
Where all the good
Had gone,
If my mission was to
Let nothing in at all?

Back slouched over,
Legs in a V,
Eyes blurring grass
Into a murky green.
Feeling *****
And used,
Sitting in the season
I was too worn out
To enjoy.

Questions alcoved in the long,
Curved necks of lamp posts—
A God who reaches His light
Toward the murky darkness.
Souls slouched in posture on
The side of the road, unseeing,
Focused inward, cradling the
Night close until their eyes
Stop percieving the daylight.
There must be rows and rows
Of them, all lined up on the curb,
Hugging their knees close, blind
To the shoulders inches from
Their aching hearts—
Children of the world, chastising
Their lack of knowledge, their
Inability to move—
The narrow road moves on,
A river of hope outlined by a
Figure of patience, watching as
The bodies of cars buckle and
Deflate on the wide avenue,
Drivers unfolding from the smoking
Holds to the row of people who 

Relied on the promise of themselves.

I let the pool widen at my feet,
The vanity of myself leaking
From my body, gathering at
My ankles, forming an ocean.

One day, as I no longer relied
On my own strength, I saw
I was walking on the water
Of Grace.

Rended heartstrings
on a beat-up guitar,
A voice trying to
reach heaven—

The borders between
souls merge, only
Family in the air of
the Spirit—

An arm's length
Of distance--
A question on
Hesistant lips.
A shake of a head,
An answer tinted
With resignation--

Because he is a fragile soul
Formed of glass and passion—
The pieces lay on their sides
—already broken.

A cold wind in tired eyes,
Tears that spoke
Into the quiet dark--
A conversation
Of the pain I refused
To share,
Finding its place below
Dormant window sills--
Steeped in tea,
Sludgy beneath the stars--
A walk home
To a place that was really
Only a house.

Pale yellow pages,
Torn at the sides,
The words thoughtful
As they fill up the
Ordained space—
His hand is smooth,
Full of love, using
Us as writing pads
To spread His grace.
We are flyers of the
Words He lays on our
Hearts, flitting in the
Wind, until He decides
We’re all out of pages—
Beauty returning to
Its likeness again.

A passage of unseen looks,
A stolen question, sequestered
By worries—
Can I see you
For a moment?
Words laid at a doorstep,
Fingers quietly wound together,
A hand holding a head--
Don’t speak,
You don’t have to.
God knows your heart better
Than I ever could.
Bring it to Him,
Fall apart,
Feel the Spirit catch you—
It is not my arms,
But the love of Christ
Supporting you through me,
Gracefully broken.

A wall of empty polaroids,
Picture frames of memories
That only existed in my head—
I waded in my worries, bathing
In the darkness of my knuckles

As they held tight to the control
Around my life’s throat—
At the bottom of growth, nowhere
To go but upward, toward the
Light of glistening things, of His
Glory working to shine through
The drapes I closed to stew in

My pain—before I was Saved.

One heart tied to mine, slowly
Loosening as the strings of Jesus
Grew stronger, brighter, fastened
Around a sapling He was dredging
From the soil—when did I outgrow
The other flowers of belief that
Surrounded? To one soul, I was
Unrecognizable, and to others, I
Was only catching up, floundering,
Until I realized He was the Center.

The hours began to pass
Like strawberry jam
On sourdough toast
In the morning.

Silk-thin pages flapping
In the gentle wind,

Birds of God’s creation
Squawking above.

The sun seeped through
The clouds like honey,
Droplets of joy, of

God’s presence.

Breathe in, breathe out,
The revival of the soul,
Hours gained as I
Rest in my Lord.

The sharp corners of stairs,
A valley of ups and downs,
Housing a river of tears—
My struggles swelled at my
Ankles, slowly trying to rise.
If I did not climb forward,
Upward, towards my Father,
I would be drowned by this
World, caught in the Death
He had defeated on an old,
Waterlogged cross for the
Redemption of our souls.