The family sits in silence

waiting for a breath.

a spark,

anything.

Life goes on.

Perhaps not.

perhaps, only existance.

Solitary again.

Should I presume they would

agree with me,

support me,

love me?

Perhaps,

It isn’t about me

after all.

I hear a sigh -

It is my own.

The silence is broken.

I want to see beyond today
To cast the former things away
To live this moment without fear
To speak with grace, and with grace, hear.

To hold my life with open hands
To walk with joy in Your commands
I want to see beyond today
So I may know Your perfect way.

You want to trust me with Your will
Yet I am hesitating still
Afraid to find I cannot run
and finish what I have begun.

Afraid to let them see how weak
I am inside. So dare I speak?
I want to see as You see me
Through grace, and in Your grace, be free.

And when I think I know what’s true
And focus on what I can do,
Please bring me back again to see
It’s not myself, but You in me.

You have a plan beyond today
And so I wait, and hope and pray,
Releasing my ambition to
The better path of loving You.

A graceful sprite, so full of life
she danced her way into my heart
I never understood till now
that grief was tearing her apart.

Her father was an angry man
Her mother cried into the night.
And Elenor went wandering
inside her mind -and out of sight.

It took a while to realize
that little Elenor had gone
she took no purse and left no clue
as to the road she traveled on.

She made new friends quite easily
but they would never know,
that as the past came closing in
Elenor would have to go.

She came to me, as children do,
with laughter and expectancy
wondering what part I’d play
in her created fantasy.

I loved her laughter and her smile,
and would have kept her as my own
but just as quickly as she came
she slipped away, alone.

She left a note with scribbled hand
“I have to go”- was all it said.
Today the front page of the news
reports a missing girl found dead.

Her father has been taken in,
a suspect for the crime.
Her mother’s in the hospital.
They say she’s lost her mind.

If only I had questioned more,
this little girl who stole my heart.
I never understood till now
what grief was tearing her apart.

The maiden heart now covered with lace,
powder and rouge line her face.
Time’s cruel touch hobbles her grace.
The matron steps back, to find her new place.

Inside her breast beats a heart that is young.
With so many songs still left unsung.
Her wisdom ignored by those she’s among,
The plans she made, dust covered. Undone.

She wanders alone in the crowded room.
Hearing faint laughter, remembering a tune.
She never noticed the passing of June,
And winter, it seems, has come too soon.

(Dedicated to Charlie)

Here is the knight of valor

with starlight in his eyes

a golden helmet on his head,

and I see through his guise,

A gentle, hopeful heart.

That hides a greater quest

Of mysteries and riddles.

He yearns to know the rest.

Meanwhile, forgotten lessons

Still wait beside his chair

While thoughts and dreams are wandering

Where only heroes dare.

Truth and light and all that’s right
Is what you say, is what you do,
So who’s the enemy I fight
When night is also light to you?

I’m turned around till up is down
And inside out and outside through.
It never ends, the same as you,
It only bends, and false is true.

I frighten thoughts back in their place
and seize on what I thought I knew
No loving Hell, No pain of Grace
Only Enigma – All is You.

Who is he and why should I care?
What matter, what meaning, anywhere?
All is futility, effort a waste
When no bread remains for the hungry to taste.

You’ll toil and sweat for society’s good.
If you do what is right and do what you should,
The pockets of beggars will be full and fat
But what will posterity do after that?

The drunk lays down wasted. The well has run dry
and no change is left in the coffers to buy.
The tools are left rusting, all lined up in rows,
But the wise have all left, so nobody knows.

The beggar would **** him, the savior of all,
accusing the thinker for the pain of his fall.
The prophet of profit, destroyer of fools
He will not be tied or be tried by their rules.

He lets each one fall. The motors all cease.
When lights all go out, at last there is peace.
And when men of mind at last may go home
They’ll rebuild Atlantis that only they’ve known.