Be the iron ore smelting in a crucible
Constantly being refined.
Ready to be molded into a mighty weapon.
Ready to be wielded in battle.
You possess a warm glow attracting.
And the lives that you touch
Burn along in love and
Melt along in awe of Glory.

Or

Be the brine drawn from the dark arctic depths,
With your cold pride
And salty apathy that leaves
Mouths and throats
Dry
And stirs bellies
To malfunction,
Then inaction.

But

Be not the stagnant puddle
Most toxic.
Reflecting heaven
But still clinging to the earth.
Collecting raindrops from the sky
Together with dirt from the soles of men.

For

Do not be lukewarm,
Neither hot nor cold,
For He will spit you out.

Get lost!
Plunge into the cool waters of the unknown,
Breathe in its main element, adventure!
Fight fear!
Battle beasts!
Challenge chances!
Cultivate curiosity!

Get lost!
When you are navigating through
A remote road,
Alien alley,
Or secret sidewalk,
Soak your soul,
Let it dry
…slow
Do not wring the thrill out.

Get lost!
Everywhere,
Absolutely,
Is a strange somewhere and an exotic elsewhere.

She
Is the apple of a selfish man's eye
The one every girl despised,
An excuse for the jealous stirring
They felt in their bones
Every time she strode
Head high
Chin up

She
Carried a backpack of never ending jokes
Wherever she stopped by
And the only giggles she could
Involuntarily
Push
Out of the mouths of her helpless followers,
Were the genuine types,
The laughter
After
Depression and tension

She
Bloomed in ball gowns
And party dresses
She could keep her heels well shined
While still
Strutting
On the dance floor
Nothing but glitter
And glam
And a girl with passion and desire

But
This is how the world saw her
Watching from a car window
Nothing but her appearance and facade
Her, at the least of what she was

Behind the curtain of
Pretty
Her hair and humor blessed her with,
Was a landscape of
Beauty,
Her for what she is

And if you tried hard enough
You would see that

She captures the heart more than any set of eyes.

She could make you laugh hard enough
To make the lemonade pour out of your nose.

She could sing up your spirits with a melody that goes "you are beautiful".

She could rock the formal attire society required,
But she looked far more joyous in sweatpants and rock concert t-shirts.

She is jolly more than giggles
She is grace more than glitter
She is beauty more than pretty

My, if you met her,
You'd called it blessed rather than lucky

If ever you forget me,
try searching the folds of your skin
the secret space that bends to form your elbows
the nook underneath your collarbones
because I'm almost certain
that I've dropped a postcard or two
with riddles that lead to
your memory of me.

If you ever forget me,
drift off to sleep.
sleep deep.
I'll be the one in your dream
who is cheering the loudest in the crowd
as you spin and do backflips on an elephant's trunk.
I'll be the stone you trip on
the one that causes you to fall down a mountain
but I'll also be the eagle that saves you, and
we'll soar.
we'll soar.

Just
in case you forget me,
just
play songs from the winter birdhouse
and maybe the shaky voices and
dusty guitars will help you remember.
I told you once upon a December's eve
that no one can sing
they can only cry beautifully and
the best singers are those who weep the loveliest
so maybe a playlist
filled with warm nutmeg kisses
will help you remember.

If that still doesn't work,
go back to every time you bled
replay every tear, pause at every clenched fist
every second you were on your knees
but didn't see me standing beside you
behind you
whispering prayers
trying to plant seeds
you never heard me
but the entire time my being was screaming
I'm here

Only when and only if
you forget me,
I hope you'll at least try
to close your eyes
and see the treasure map I tattooed on your eyelids
the one where x marks the spot
where we cut paper figures
by your favorite river
next to the little meadow with
tiny spring flowers
but if that doesn't work either
lie awake at night
search your heart and
if you aren't able to see
my fingerprints on your veins
or my toes peeping out from your
heart's deepest chambers,
it's okay.
Because even if you forget me
over
and over
and over again
I'll always just be here
wishing I never had to
write a poem about someone
you'll never forget
when they've already forgotten you.

My God my God
What can I do?
To these broken hearts that surround me
What can I do?
To these saddened eyes I see

I can't stand doing nothing
Seeing tears run down their eyes
I can't stand doing nothing
When their days seem to grow dark and hazy  

I just want to put my arms around them
Telling them everything will be better than fine
Better than okay
But even that won't be enough

My God my God
What can I do?


My Son my Son
You need not do anything
But to stay and listen
To give Love, and to give Hope
Do what I say
You asked, and I have answered

You need not do anything
Just leave the rest to me.