When pride doth rear its vile head
And flesh and bones it beguiles,
The black guilt pierces me, near dead
Then nothing, nothing do I feel.
Pride devouring me, and I it in return
Lapping at its bitter milk like a dog
Until that day when I then do burn.

I leapt as far as I dare not
To do naught but prove wrong or right
Yet knowing not if what I sought  
Was truly the truth I ought to fight;
Who can know what really exists
Without that tug that so insists?
If there be such a like as doubt
There must be grains of faith about.

Without faith, there be doubt, but with,
There must be some belief inside.
Standing here, looking down the cliff
Walls, eyeing this gap so mightily wide,
On two feet must I stand, so sure;
As tall as the mustard seed did spur
So filled with courage and little pride –
Weight that sinketh, not make me glide

No lies can I then tell or then
Shall I fall – or not even step.
Courage must I have the day when
I try; no burdens then to schlep.
But try I must, for what indeed
Is life without our soul’s life’s need
For adventure and risk. Oh! How
Hard, though, to take the first step now.

No ground under my feet but what’s
Inside my soul; breast pounding hard;
Then mind and heart align; fear cuts
Its tie on me, and fall does my guard
I had so carefully mortared.
Now soars my hope like wizened bird.
Leap, for you cannot know ‘tis faith
Lest fruit of actions so saith.

Not cancer within our bones,
But it’s a cancer of our homes.
It’s a “hierarchy” deemed “alright”
But it’s a battle – a true fight.

It’s a longing for control and
It’s a simple punch, fist, hand
Or not even that. It could be
Lashing words that ignore her plea.

He denies her to her loved ones
For that’s who would step up with guns
Of love, ropes of safety. “Keep quiet,”
She’s told, which is now her best bet.

It’s shame that keeps her in silence.
It’s love that frees her from *violence.

“I appoint you an official member
Of the greatest group (not club, mind you,
For we are better than all that nonsense),”
He said with a proud sniffle, “My good sir,
You are now a Busy Bee of BV.”
He leaned in close to the wide-eyed new boy.
“That’s short for Bumbles Ville – our secret fort.”
He straightened his ratted baseball cap, “See,”
He said with a smack of gum. “It’s not ‘bout
Bees ‘t all.” At this the new boy giggled.
A secret! How clever! “But what’s it ‘bout?”
The little boy asked, his voice squeaking out.
They grabbed a paper scroll marked “OFFICIAL!”
                We keep all secrets
                We may take small bets—
“There’s more notes on that at the bottom of
The page, see, right next to our initials,
‘Cause we couldn’t agree at first, and Jim
Here didn’t know what a bet was, you know.”
He didn’t know, but nodded. Then, “Dinner,”
He said at once, scamp’ring down the tree limb.
“We didn’t tell him what we’s ‘bout,” Jim moaned,
“Took his dog, too.” He glumly bowed his head.

Up, up, up…
       Let’s fly away to a magical land
       We can sing and skip hand in hand
Out, out, out…
       To the space outside
       Let’s watch the receding tide
Laugh, laugh, laugh…
       Look at the singing birds,
       Out here, there need not be words
Spin, spin, spin…
       Let’s dance all the way
       Down the hill this very day
Smile, smile, smile…
       Like the wind, we’re free
       Quick! Out to the tree
Run, run, run…
       Up the hill and down
       My smile never a frown
Play, play, play…
       I can always be good tomorrow
       But today I have my new carved arrow
Down, down, down…*
       Uh-oh. I hear my mother’s voice now.
       It’s time to leave now. Right now.
Coming, Mother!

Oh!
My mind is spinning
Lovers of math, how?
Kerosene, my desk.  
Just kidding. Or no?
I** am falling to the floor
Help, no signal… Dead.
Gather the marbles!
For why don’t you flow?
Everywhere I look,
Dumb numbers look back.
Call it what it is?
Bothersome old foe.
Ah!

I want to run back to you.
Hold me in your arms, dear God.
Help me believe it is true.
You’ve forgiven me, a fraud.

I’m afraid to hate.
I’m afraid to love.
I’m afraid to feel.

I’m afraid to date.
I’m afraid to shove.
I’m afraid to heal.

Simple. Elegant.
It was pure and beautiful.
The black dress shimmered.

I tried to tell her.
I did! Did she listen?
No, she didn’t bother.
It was test upon test.

You can’t pass something
You haven’t learned
However hard you’re trying.
But I gave it my best.

It was today that she
Finally graded that those tests.
Her look a degree
Colder than cold.

“This is very, very bad,”
Said she, and I agreed.
I couldn’t tell if she was sad or mad,
But she showed me my mark.

Fifty three out of fifty five.
“At least I got two,” I thought.
No matter how you strive,
You can’t know what you don’t know.  

I tried to tell her so.

Ashley, I love you.
I wish I could give you hugs…
And popcorn… and tea.

Daddy, tell me what your love language is,
So that I can say, “I love you,” just right.
I’ll hug you before you leave for work each day,
Quality time? I won’t let you out of my sight.
Or do I just have to tell you the words?
If so, I’ll tell you every morning when we eat.
Do you like gifts? I’ll make you something.
Is it acts of service? Like making the house neat?
If so, let me find a brush and I’ll clean that tub.
Just know that I love you, Daddy. I love you.

I’ve tried to write you a poem, Ashley,
About you, but no matter how much
I try to write, it still doesn’t suit me.
I just want to say what a good friend
You are to me, and that I love you.
I can’t quite tell you just how much,
But since our friendship grew…
Well, let’s just say I think you’re amazing.

First you ask the question:
Who is my hero? Do I know?
Then I must mention,
What do they want?
What of this challenge
Is there to daunt?
How, then, is he or she
Pursuing this goal?
What is their heart’s key?
What are the stakes?
And to get to this goal,
Will he or she do what it takes?
Do they reach the goal?
And if not, what will
Happen if this goal
Is not reached?
What if their mission
Is suddenly breached?
Also, we must add
Will they stay focused?
If indeed the goal had
Been reached, is it
After all what they truly
Wanted, or must they admit
Their goal was wrong?

My ankles wobble,
And my legs tire,
But the strength
That they require
Was there, no doubt.
I am not a crier.
No, my horse,
He ran like fire.

All I feel is the power,
The wind on my face
As I sit, towered
Above this place.
I feel the strength
Of his muscles as
They stretch leg’s length
And then once again – as
A drunk with his drinking–
He pulls the ground
Towards him, linking
Each stride to howling hound
As it calls up ahead.
His eagerness proves
What this horse was bred
For as his speed improves
And I find myself
Flying, floating, soaring,
As one finds oneself
When on a horse, exploring.

If you’re to be one kind of tree, which one
Would you pick? So many there are – tall, short,
There’s weak or strong, but I know there is none
As the tall aspen tree, and that’s the sort
I’d wish to be. It makes such music, art
And it’s a tree of color and of life
Peel off its bark, and you get its heart.
A thing of beauty amidst all the strife.
It’s not like pine trees, oak trees, or others,
No, it stands, thin and tall, like a dancer.
Together they stand, united brothers.
It seems if they ask God, He then answers.
This is the tree that I would want to be –
An aspen tree, for that is just like me.

Oh, close your eyes,
Can’t you hear the music?
Listen, it cries.  
But, no, you’re blind, blind, blind.
It beckons you,
A dream, a hope, alive.
Look at the view,
Can’t you see it, my son?
But now it’s gone,
Forever lost, lost, lost.

This beauty comes from
Brokenness, not some
Perfect life I’ve made
It is more a trade –
Death for life, true hope,
Pains and trials, my rope.
To trust Him to help me
Grow up, in Him, free,
Into who He wants.
(Though temptation taunts)
I fall, broken, then
He loves once again.
As shepherd to lamb,
Who He says I am,
That is whom He makes,
Whatever the stakes.
I am His daughter,
With Living Water,
And I am broken,
For me, He’s spoken.
I am *beautiful.

Go to bed.
Go to sleep.
Talk to God.
Don’t count sheep.
I love you. :)
But don’t forget
That He loves
You more, Jeanette.

It was an innocent kiss
A simple, sweet, silver tease,
And a clever little message
Or sometimes just “Hershey’s.”

She’s a broken heart
She’s a wounded soul
She’s an abstract art
But she’s fallen.

She held my hand
And we sat down
On that soft sand.
I told and shared
With her my most
Deep secrets as
We walked the coast.
We laughed with one
Another as we
Played around and
Splashed in the sea.
Oh, how hard we
Laughed that one day,
My friend and I
In the sea’s spray.

There’s that long, long line,
And that panic of “I’m late!”
Except there’s still time.

Something about that
Noisy juice box when you get
To the end of it…

Where’s the ocean’s heart?
Is it in the deep blue depths
Or the playful waves?

You know what I hate?
The dreams in which you’re falling,
Panicking… then black.

It’s that agape
Love that brings this world
Together again

Ay, ay, ay, ce faci!
He says, every single time
It is his trademark.

You feel your arms burn,
And you think you might give up
But He gives you strength.

It begs.
Calling out,
A dusty tome  
Sits on his desk
Begging his mind
To let go and roam
Those thrilling lands
Explore the ocean deep
Discover memories past
Fight and win battles it lost
To restore those relationships
And right those thousand wrongs
And forgive what debts weren’t paid
And create that not created or made
Calling, sing all the unsung songs
Once more kiss his wife’s lips
To cure bitterness of frost
Answer what was asked
Try unexplored paths
Warm frozen hands
Befriend a gnome
Get more sleep
Escape the bands
See the ocean foam
Release those confined
Write stories Romanesque
Return to his mother at home
Become a young, little boy scout
It begs.

A shrill whistle calls
And a voice that warms my heart
Beckons me to come.

Wake up! Wake up!
It’s time to dream, child.
Here’s your cup,
Now take a sip, my dear.

It’s time to create
No matter what they
Say about your fate
Only One knows, beloved.

It’s time to be,
Be all that you can
And plant that tree
Because you are His.

It’s time, love, to
Run this race. Run hard,
Seek what’s true.
This isn’t about you, child.

It’s time to give all
That you have got
And to take the fall
For someone else.

It’s time, you know,
Because you’re free
Truth in hand, go show
Love to your enemies.

There is coming a day
When all knees shall bow
And all disbelief go away
As we worship our King
In His glorious throne,
And the Bride with the ring
Put back on her finger.

Kicked off my tennis shoe
Sat back in a white plastic chair
With a bit of gum to chew.
Then I closed my eyes,
And let my mind go free,
And I dreamed of the skies
In which grace was a color
More beautiful than ever,
And even the greatest scholar
Couldn’t understand, but
Just basked in its glorious
Light, praising the One for what
He had done to set us free.
It’s a color none can describe.

She holds the child to her breast
Gently stroking the girl’s hair,
And wipes the tears off round cheeks.
Her words soft, as if not to scare
The trembling little two year old
Any more than she has already been.
She says, “I love you,” and gives a kiss.
The girl sniffles and tucks her chin,
Shivering and nodding with a sniffle.
Then she says, muffled by the hair,
A fierce, “I love you, too, mommy.”

A child with dreams,
A teen with habits,
A man with trials,
A father with battles,
A grandfather with love.

The child
Who dreams, who hopes
And leaves home.

The father
Who struggles, who seeks,
But dies in war.

The mother
Who loves, who mourns,
Still here.