i got older again
not any wiser though,
just a little bit sadder.

recently
I got a little older,
learned a lesson or two,
like how loving someone
could never be as poetic
as I wanted it to.
like how nothing
would ever be as poetic
as I wanted it to.
how can I accept
that the miracle of love
isn’t really a miracle at all?
how can I wrap myself
in someone’s arms
when I know
that there isn’t any sort
of poetic loving involved?
how do I unlearn
the romantic thoughts
that taught me
about the fireworks,
the butterflies,
and the fluttering fingers
in the dark.
and accept that
maybe kissing
won’t be as spiritual as I thought.
maybe it’s really just a mouth on mine.
how do I unlearn my innocent heart
who lulled me into a false sense of hope
for a lover who would call
the way my body moves
art.
a lover who would feel
the poetry
in every word
I spoke in the dark.

and at that moment I knew:
I would chase God to the end of the earth,
peering into every stranger’s soul
looking for a piece of worship.  

I would chase grace
to the edge of the world
searching for a bit to steal
and a wound to heal.

I would chase peace
to the edge of the world
letting the wind *******
into a new place to
find myself.

I would chase love
to the edge of the the world.
or maybe,
I wouldn’t.
because before I found the end of the world
I found that slow piano songs
and holding someone’s hand
don’t repair my broken heart
like I thought they would.

I will chase God
to the edge of the earth
until I’m no longer afraid
of an unfamiliar place
and the lack
of a hand to hold.

daughter,
you are worth more than
everything the galaxy could reach
cursed with a lustful heart,
you were made with the intent of art.
once penniless and poor
you found pricelessness  
in the palms of a wise man's
open fists,
bleeding out of nailed wrists
grace without conditions
mercy you almost missed

empty you came
a hollow vase
waiting to be broken free
from your glass case.
he died for you
to give you life
to bring you peace.

a sinful disaster
waiting to quench her thirst
on his love
poured out like water,
thickened with blood.

daughter,
you aren't very pretty,
but through grace
he who died in your place,
gave you the chance
to be beautiful.