To feel your hand in my hand,
Your words in my ear,
Your heart beneath my palm--
I would give anything.

I picture your soft voice
Chasing away the sadness
And lending hope to my broken heart.
My world feels empty,
My forces lacking.
How am I to tackle this war
With no one on my side?

True--
My God is loving;
He is strong and compassionate.
I know that in him,
I cannot fail.

But staying ahead of failure
Is not the same as finding success.
If I am to succeed,
This emptiness must be filled.
I need strength beside me,
As well as within me.

I need a hand to hold,
And a smile to return.
Why did God give you to me,
Only to let the distance keep you from me?

I’ve got a stitch along my arm,
and a patch across my side.
There’s a thread sticking out of my hair,
and a band-aid over my chest.
My body is covered in bandages,
with seams running every which way.
I feel like the stuff that’s inside me,
is seeping out through my tears.
With every single step I take,
comes the fear of falling apart.
But for now, I’m held together
by these few threads of hope.
Hope that I’ll someday find myself
whole and brave and strong once more.
Until that day, I’ll keep walking forward,
finding strength in the peace I’ve sewn together.

The angels that you can and cannot see
float in and out of life so gracefully;
enfold in winged embraces one by one,
celestial comforters when day is done.
Some angels take the shapes of passers-by
so you might see the Spirit in their eyes.
A smile that lifts the day from the mundane;
a kind hand up, a loving act conveyed.
The unseen angels hover in the realm
where power manifested overwhelms
our common senses. There behind the scenes
they battle fears and reinforce our dreams.
Take counsel from a humbled man, once proud;
they only enter lives when they're allowed.

perhaps it is the weather
a prolonged absence of the sun
or presence of the winter cold
or just a temporary fashion

the media as well as many webbéd sites
simply abound with dreary blather
     of lovers lost and death so cold
     the lonesomeness of every single soul
     and how s/he suffers when s/he writes
spelled out at length with no discretion

we know that people suffer from depression
or unquenchable anger at the world
and how through proper treatments
you can considerably relieve the pain

fix them in words is one of them
    but may not be enough
sometimes a mix of pills and pen
may do the trick and help you
    write yourself through your misty prison walls
    discover unlocked doors hidden in plain sight
    step out into the sunshine
        from the darkest night

you are the sun
    whose radiance illuminates the world
    lends brilliance to your life
    sheds light on everything you’ve done

and soon you’ll notice
even the weather is getting bether …