Chest stews jealous behind the sun-risen eyes of confusion.
Beaten and drugged to midnight without touching overt illusion.
Humility is shaken false when the sun set tallies.
I’m still subject to the vacillation of peaks too valleys.

My peak is but a broom in an infant’s hands.
Troubled by the dust of a valley’s demands.
That claims to sweep what I could never pain…
Paint me the wandered sheep that wore lion’s mane.

I feel the viper of ignorance in the bump of a stranger.
Venom through my pride peeks invisible danger.
Whose reflection is my shadow radiating a contusion.
Vanity is not fair till it's understood delusion.

For I knew not when I didn’t in prides hindsight sip
My Master will always humble silence to thy lip
Brings meaning to the scars of my landscape
Plowed, reaped and sowed for a son’s sake.
………….
I Love Jesus

Over push the current and you cause a rapid…Over push the current and you create a dam…don’t push the current and cause the drought….. Trust it only needs a clear loving nudge and then let it choose it’s path…easier said then done but finally patience shows that even the white water settles in gentle pools along the path….The fawn returns to quench thirst and the flutter of the robin will dance in your stomach…Hope is what I’m rowing and when this current finally settles, is it not clarity that we fish for? Gentle waters prove a new challenge because even the slightest ripple distorts the reflection…..and hasn’t reflection been everything on this journey? On the contrary the ravine is about finding intention and the reflection is merely the vague bucket used to draw on these deep waters of the soul…let the fawn sip until she is ready and with her eyes you will witness clarity feast over the silence of beauty…..Faith…Hope and Love….that’s the idea…… no matter the outcome everlasting Love will be the bounty of the unconditional ………………..Jesus

Dr. Love
My mind dripped condensation creating fog of future outcomes and mirages of past indulgences. How my ribs caged the prison of my heart forcing me to live amongst lions. How then could I love you? The past pounded the typewriter while the future put me on witch trial; all the while I stood at eternity’s doorstep within the present heartbeat. But only in a babies inhale did I get to suckle. What a bone dry decent into the well of the endless Spirit, which routinely was avoided with much malice. So it was then... but is not now... so truly I see the lions are indeed doves. How wonderful is lost love when free will chooses to purge and claim everlasting virtue. A new way to Love….to Love others….instead of survival….Love Jesus

You know the highways, dark alleys, and short cuts of the fire. Dawn to dusk in an endless soufflé. When water hits boil I join to chop but I fall asleep, I am yet to be seasoned. When I awake I dine and dash. I apologize for treating you like digestion, for forgetting the grizzled spatula. My humility was famished my pride was stuffed. How ignorant to believe the pilot rose and fell like the sun. Spiritual starvation my consequence for self-righteous gluttony but now my plate is sparkling and I can see clear reflection, instead of a bite I desire to serve you both hand and foot as you have served me….Thank you……Jesus

Handful of petals a dozen bleeding red shriveled at long past bloom and locked within my room….how I cried for the thorns of stems that never came to soon so still held hopeful locked within my room. A two year breathe put me at peace but was this divine promise or ruse? Praying still for flowers past sunlight on a mid-day noon that twisted them rootless locked within my room. Then lay gentle the bright white of a stormy winter all things different and all things new. A gust of breathe ran in cold stinging to the lungs from the window that knew about the handful of roses locked within my room….Dear Roses our time has past from the yesterday’s moons……. fly away never to be seen…..we will meet again soon……………..

To Be is to know but to know is not to Be….parts of me that will never be do to moments past dead...well now let it be! Another moment dead...Stroll our nemesis death face to cheek and feel the rooted guilt of our sin in it's manifestation of Eden… then you can call it friend.... eyes open to the doubled faced dreaded eyes shut. A face within a face gained not by natural acceptance or neglect but by knocking on the front door of fear..."though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me" believing not just in voice but in the death of silence..."Be still and know the I AM"