each little thing
goes up in flames
small things that don't matter,
but for the fact they've been held onto
for far too long.
each one
a small reclamation
of myself,
purging the old things,
making way for what is new and vibrant.

sometimes
i think that God is just
a little bit of a show-off,
just so that
we're reminded that there
are good things
out there,
and life is beautiful,
and no matter how badly
we ***** it up,
faith in Him makes things better.

a walk in the woods on a cold morning
before the noises of the world awaken
and bury my mind in the business of the day
with the whys and where and incessant
thumping of questions and answers
and timelines and delays
is where i find the peace
the time to be alone
and ruminate on the divine -
yes, to pray in this church
with the birds and the winds as music
to my meditation.

the ground screamed at me,
begged me,
implored me,
until finally it grew quiet,
and that is when i heard it -
so i took off my shoes and went outside,
greeting the earth with my feet unshod,
and it spoke to me,
as it likes to do.
i cried,
because i took so long to hear it.

she her i you they
me him he us we -
when you put them together randomly,
it sounds ridiculous.
but put the word 'love' between any two,
and it works.
it makes sense.
now try it with 'hate.'
it can be done, sure,
but which was more enjoyable?
love always wins.

pale blue spring skies
hold sway over a quiet arena,
where later thousands will be gathered
to watch the spectacle -
heroes both made and broken
in contest with one another.
we've come so far,
but not far at all.
we're just a more modern Rome.

we fight sometimes,
but not like everyone else,
a battle of wits
where the weapons are phrases like,
"i love you more than _"
and we fill in the blank
the way we fill in the blank spaces in each other.