I danced and danced
and danced away
until the sun
turned into the moon
A curious sliver,
a faint silver
was it
I cried out to the darkness.
"Show your face again!"

But no answer

So I shouted out
"Never again will a light shine
that beams warmly on mine!"
The clouds could scatter
with the blowing of my breath,
but the call of night
was as cold as death

Yet, oddly, dots of light
peeped out from the curtain
of velvet black,
like a celestial pact
were stars upon stars
as rays of hope
from afar

Gathering as glowing jewels,
fireflies dancing the skies
in shimmering pools!
I shouted out in triumph,
"I win! I win!
Never again
shall light end!
All but lost
if not for God's gems!"

Alive with wonder,
I cried out once again,
"Shine! Shine!
Rebels, all of you!
You sea of painted pearls!
Don't you know it's a dark
and lonely world?"

Soldier Boy in Iraq,
sleeping with your gun
nestled by your side,
pimples on your face,
a foreign place
to rest your head,
and your bed
is as harsh and unforgiving
as the desert sands.

You fear maybe the next bullet
may be for you,
nothing new
in your mind.
You've seen your kind
fall before.

Iraqi faces,
some grateful,
some hateful,
give you odd and curious glances.
Women and girls in veils,
tales of woe,
tales of fear.
Men and boys draw near,
captivated by the Yanks
who dare to be here.

Soldier boy in Iraq,
say your prayers.
Draw close to God,
and He will draw near
to you.
Your mom is looking forward
to your letter
and you think it's better
to waste no time
and write it now.

I woke up today to a tangerine sun,
the fullness of its round belly
perched upon the city
in an orange, growing glow.

The day was adorned in autumn,
but all its best, in arrayed pockets
of majestic color, could not compare.

The traffic passed on by
as if the world foolishly seemed
to never notice it was there.
But I could have plucked it out of the sky,
delighting in its mouthwatering sweetness
for days and days and days,
consuming its bright fullness for life
in copy cat decision
as I would gently swallow it up
completely.

A miracle this is not.
After all, maybe it was there
many a morning,
but I forgot to look up and see.

Yet today its lantern presence
lit a fire upon my thoughts,
for God so loves us,
in spite of us,
that He shines extraordinary light
upon us
to wake us up,
to embrace the life we have been given.

This is my testimony,
fruitful expressions
of creative hope and faith
yet fiercely fought for
with every fiber of my being
to be feasted upon in my soul
for survival.
Crazy words to some,
but to dreamers not.

Today I claimed a small victory,
somewhere between here and heaven
all within the world
of a tangerine sun.

Pea soup,
but peas too few.
Life is a bowl
of murky green,
just wading
our way through
faded memories.
Reality,
hard to grasp
with a spoon.
Chunks and pieces,
a hint of aroma,
a fulfilling taste to soothe,
but hungry in an hour
for truth.
Pea soup.

I remember fear,
when fear lived inside
I did not invite it in
It had its own key

I remember fantasy
Fantasy and I got along
Together we overcame,
and fear took off running

I remember stubbornness,
determined to make my own way,
not to live in a little shoe box,
determined to fly away

I remember that little girl
That little girl knew me
I am not anyone I can recall
I'm just me

Towers,
raining down tears and blood,
Showers,
raining burning steel,
a gushing flood.
Panicking people,
leaping to their deaths.
The only chance to find
a dousing rest.
Buried in the heap of ash,
the smoking pinnacles have crashed!

Oh, New York!
Mourning for your dead!
The flag's colors have run,
all have bled
into darkest scarlet,
deepest red!

Frightened Lady Liberty
had dropped her torch,
her harbors so badly scorched!
The dust pasted on each ghostly face,
the horrified, tear-stained
human race!

In a Pacific Ocean playground palace,
calm Alaskan waters--
but no comfort!
No hideaway
for this American daughter!

Thousands of miles away,
oh, New York City,
was I in a midst of serene sea,
yet longing,
longing to be home
nearer to thee!

She has fire in her veins,
fire in her hair.
She might light your world afire today.
So beware!

Her autumn reflection,
burning bright,
has much detection
throughout her night.

She has a hurting spirit,
but a proud name.
The fire she did inherit
is in her eyes the flame.

A mist of rain does tend to descend,
threatening her torch with dread,
but in spite of its might and unceasing end,
the fire is never dead.