He walks with me.

God the one and only monarch of all that is above,
below, and in-between,
the omnipresent majesty -
He walks with me.

Step by pitiable, dragging step, through murk
as deep as my soul's neck
and drowning in sorrows larger than
any eye can comprehend; and
walking by the babbling brook on
soft and springy green
(and yes, one day up in
the very clouds) -
He walks with me.

Pleased as man with men to dwell,
pleased to die and free from hell,
undergoing all the trials,
tribulations and temptations,
every waking moment I have lived
known because that Man lived too.

Now I lay me down to sleep,
now I rise and start to weep;
now I feel the joyous thunder,
now I cower on His shoulder;
now I lift His name on high,
now His hands are holding me.
Every broken part of me,
every soft and shattered dream,
all are safe in His embrace
and I am quickened in the race.
Because He walks with me.

I am lost and I am broken,
I am weary of the fight,
I am curled up on my bed
and thoughts are swirling through
my head.
But.
I am kept, and I am woken,
daily by a whispered grace
hands of healing lift me up,
and wash the tear stains off my face.
Depths cannot divide, nor heights bring
distance,
everywhere I go, there is no difference
for
He walks with me.

a torrent rests uneasy
in my soul.
heart unspilled to the ear of
ever-loving God.

why do I stay away
why do I stay awake,
when grace and sweet
redemption wait my
soul
if only I speak
unchaining heart
and soul to be
entered, swept and
renovated painfully by the dead, undying
Savior of my soul.

Lift up your weary, aching silence,
you *****, tired soul.
Let not the halls of God above
lay still, unmarred by the
whimper of this self-inflicting
dog.

sweet balm
so oft denied
come and lay your lips
on my troubled and
shadowy head.

Sleep. That gift
from heaven's throne,
where earth and all
my soul's care slip away -

come. Meet me
gently, sweetly,
lay me down at peace
with God, and self,
and fellow man.

Amen.

innocence lost, my
own vision clouded,
drifting light and tired shadows,
draped upon
the rifts and valleys
of my soul

o desire, you terrible mistress
queen of heart-flung whispers
lit like snowflakes on
a far and rocky
shore
swept up and melted by a
wave more cold than ice
kept warm with salt...

i don't know my own thoughts
anymore
i ran a blade across my skin
in wonder at the thought
that it could be an
answer
for anyone. it will never be for me

still i am lost in a maze of light and sparkling fire
all around
i reach for it
but the further i stretch
the emptiness of gall within expands

i'm leaving behind the best parts of me
when i travel into darkness,
i'm tying up and torturing the corners of
my mind
i thought i'd know ahead of time
where all the pain would
take me,
down this sad, **** rabbit-hole

but no one in a million years could
ever show me just how much
i'd like this terror to be
freed from what was
once a
tired freedom left
behind
by broken chains

is there one spark of truth in
a single thing i say?
or is it all the flurry of
senseless dreams
refurbished by a mind that
lives and sleeps and drinks and dies
with words.

i didn't mean to find a flower
on my journey through the forest
but there it was
trying
to bloom in a
crevice of the rock

We're dancing on a
knife's edge,
you and I.
You know it - I can see
the sparkle in your eye.

But do we care? I suppose
there's somewhere deep
down in
where mind sits at its desk
and all the glaring danger signs
flash red.
But on the surface, there's a
bit of gold in knowing
where we stand
for now,
and being free to dance the line
with comfort in your friendship yet
excited
all the same.

We know where we stand:
it's not together,
so we're free to tap the
dance floor lightly
and
smile into the night,
because our words are sparring
in -
well, let's say they
might have crossed the line.

But just our words.
We two?
We're standing side by side
(this side of the line)
and laughing at them,
pointing out the silliness
yet somehow still content
to stay and watch them
anyway
for lingered moments that speak
more deeply
than the words themselves could ever do.