Camera-happy me captures moments constantly,
yet with you, I fail and realize: a simple photo can’t suffice.
It cannot exhale, inhale, run its fingers through its hair,
look, laugh with your eyes, speak, seeming older and wise,
for in reality you’re more than a lens could ever see.
Your smile’s light resists a frame, and a flash cannot tame
the wildness of your mind or cage your heart--so kind
that you soar through my life like no one before,
but because your essence escapes photography,
I wonder if you can ever belong to me.

Years, listening to your lies and
writing sad odes, sorry metaphors about worthlessness,
all the reasons, various, numerous, for my loneliness,
figure flawed, wits wanting, a person less than perfect,
me, cast in the role of defective, undesirable.
I believed you.

This morning, you’re at it again,
telling me I can’t have this, the sum of my hopes:
a mountain too tall and I, too small, can’t overcome it.
a feat too mighty, and I, too weak, can’t accomplish it
a vision so beautiful, and I, so ugly, can’t attain it.
In all of this, you’re right.

Or would be, if I wasn’t part of a Whole
who’s height can’t be measured,
who’s mightiness surpasses strength,
who’s beauty a sunrise can’t match.
All this and more is mine in Him
so I stand, therefore,
to tell you I will drink none of your poison today,
to say sorry, sir,
the sum of my hopes cannot be shaken
by the sum of the fears you fling in my face.

At first, you won’t admit you lost, you count the cost,
fighting hopefully for someone who doesn’t want saving.
The weight of failed friendship and the blame you believe
belongs to only you bends your back
as you pray for peace and problems solved.

(Time)

You wake up weary of battle
and realize you have nothing left to give except giving up.
Then no longer tired, you’re on fire,
because surrender burns and sears a scar:
a name on your heart.

(Time)

New names and faces you want to trust, but
your wound’s not healed quite yet so you fret,
worrying that war will start again, you wait,
inside though laughter beckons you outside,
you’re not ready to open the door.

(Time)

Breezes wind their way in through the
window as you peak out when
someone comes knocking, smiling,
eyes looking at you with a question and
holding out a hand for you to take, which you do.

(Time)

Sometimes, sadly you wonder what went wrong
when the scar with a name beats when your heart does,
but the hands you hold are steadfast in holding you
as you let go of the past to live in the present that
promises a future, one day at a time.

There is no road until I start walking.
I put my foot down, the bricks fall under my feet,
paving the way as I need it, but not before.

Oh, Lac Operon, gene cluster great, you code for enzymes three,
but only if Lactose in the cell arrives to set you free.
Lac Z, Lac A, Lac Y: these genes would be expressed
yet a crafty protein from gene I keeps you so repressed.
Binding to the Operator, I’s Repressor keeps you capped.
Do not despair—Lactose saves you from this cruel Repressor trap,
for Lactose turns the Repressor off, giving you the space
to make galactosidase, transacetylase, and lactose permease.
Then Polymerase binds the Promoter, and the Lac genes have their day.
yet alas! They break down Lactose, taking your savior away.
When Lactose is gone, the Repressor binds and causes you to freeze,
so Operon, to live again, you must find more milk and cheese.

Storming loud, the wind drowns out my gasp
when the spray hits my face,
I walk on concrete,
the roar of the waves silencing all other thought in my head
as I realize I am afraid of suddenness I can’t predict,
the crash of cold water coming
when I don’t know when.

And then, I laugh at fear—
feeling exhilarated in the face of the oncoming
for just as I know I am not unshakable,
I know the Ground I stand on is,
and if the rush of wind and water shocks me, icy,
I will not be swallowed but supported.

So open wide with my arms and heart and soul,
I turn my face to the waves, waiting,
and when the water finally hits me, I live.

Light breaks the clouds.
It wafts in the window through the sterile air
into the room where he lies, burning.
Its rays hit your face
I stand behind you in the dark as you speak to him.
Elevated, authoritative, calm and cool,
you look pain in the eyes and smile,
explaining, the fever is spiking
because the infection is spreading
and there’s need for debriding,
also treating with something
starting with “Vanc” and ends with “In.”

I watch silently from the corner, and as you speak,
I realize who you are.
You are smart, strong, and shrewd,
You are tough and tenacious.
You are efficient, and you make your work look effortless.
I could be all of that.
I will be all of that.

But first of all, you are you.
I want to be me too.