The edges are neat and crisp,
And the wrapping paper gleams
In the weak sunlight
Filtering down from above.
Old, wrinkled hands reach out
And grasp the boxed gift.
Flakes of charred, black skin
Drift down upon it like ashen snow.
Slowly, carefully, the trembling hands
Undo one corner after another,
Flap of paper after flap of paper,
Until at last the brown box shows through.
The box is opened by the hands
As someone waits nearby,
Watching patiently to the end.
The box at last is opened,
And the gift inside is revealed:
Nothing is inside that box,
Nothing but air.
Confused, the hands life pleadingly
To the watching man nearby.
The man smiles warmly
And grasps the hands in his.
Instantly, the hands are healed--
New skin blooms
Where there once was burnt flesh.
And together, the two--
The new and the old--
Disappear into a golden light
That’s pouring from the box.

The cream expanse is withered,
Dry and cracking in the heat.
The black words on the pages squirm,
Wriggling like worms in the haze.
At the same time, the cream is frozen,
Brittle and flaking in the cold.
The black words lie dormant,
Still and lifeless on the page.
And yet in this world of cream and black,
There’s another color that appears.
Its bright red crimson is glowing,
Leaking from the holes in the letters,
Dripping from the edges of the page.
The black text is alive;
The cream paper it inhibits is alive;
How could anyone say differently
Once they’ve seen the sparkling passion?

When two things
Pull equally in opposite directions,
The object doesn't move.
When Red battles Blue,
Nothing gets done.
Red says one thing,
But Blue says another.
Only Blue
Can see both Black and White;
Red only senses them.
Both are Purple,
So which is correct?
Red wants to rush ahead;
Blue wishes to hold back and wait.
What will happen?
Who will win?

There's Green,
Standing off to the side.
It's lost its voice;
Blue and Red
Have stopped listening long ago.
The words have stopped coming
From Green.

I have wings on my heart,
And they let me soar.
True, there are several arrows
Piercing the thin outer skin,
And a few feathers are missing,
But despite all that,
I can still fly.
The joys of others are the wind
That lifts me to new heights.
Two hands wait beneath my heart,
Bolstering it, and being the strength
Needed to carry on.
They’re large and warm,
Full of compassion and healing.
They’re always there and
Never have they failed
To catch my fragile heart
When it wavers and dips.
When I falter, they gently ****
My heart in the right direction:
So up and up I fly,
To the face of my one true Valentine,
To my Lord and Savior
Jesus Christ.

At the end of the day,
When all is said and done,
There’s only one thing that remains:
You.
Constant and never-ending,
You remain.
Unconditional and all-accepting,
You love.
Again and again,
You forgive.
You are perfect in every way
And I am proud to call You
Father
Teacher
Friend
God.

Frozen.
Ba-dump.
Red
And blue.
Ba-dump.
The blue leaks
While the red pools.
Ba-dump.
The red smears
While the blue streaks
Its way through.
Ba-dump.
It’s all purple now.
Ba-dump.
The purple drips
And falls
And tumbles
Through the sky.
Ba-dump.
It plips
On the air
And separates
Into blue
And red.
Ba-dump.
They merge
And flow
And streak
And pool
And are
Ba-dump
Red
And blue.

The little lamb totters around on unsteady legs,
Pretending
That its limbs are sure and strong.
It diverts from the flock,
Frolicking and prancing around in the mud.
Oh! What’s this? Grass! Green grass!
Better grass!
It charges forward, fast as its scrawny,
Spindly legs can go.
The lamb’s almost there, when
BLAM!

Silly lamb.
There’s a wall there, you know.
No matter how hard you try,
You won’t get pas—
Oh. You did.

The lamb munches happily on this new grass.
It finishes and looks around.
It bleats in alarm when it sees
How far the flock has gone.
It bleats again, charges forward…
BLUNK!

Stupid lamb.
The wall’s gone and sealed itself.

KUNK!
THWUNK!

It won’t reopen.
Stupid, stupid lamb.