He's lost,
miles away, miles deep,
detached from his body
even as he wears away the groove of thought
ploughed across one brow
And then he sees me and says,
oh, hi -
that last syllable drawn out
to invite me in with a beguiling smile
and an innocent chuckle
at the ridiculous,
at what has brought us
to this point,
a dual study of single-minded
singleness about to diverge
into a joint pursuit with women of worth
and a marriage of ideas
from which who knows
what will birth

And now,
15 years past his singleminded passing,
I recall his laughter
and the friendship that came unasked for,
unexpected, and unmatched since
and I miss him still.

The great tree stood waiting
until he got there -
as far as there
at the appointed time
long before the promised time
before the arrival of offspring.

And the trees still stand
in anticipation
of the greater remainder of the promise.

Not by fashion or passing trend
Nor by my standing with foe or friend

Not by whim or sweet-toothed appetite
Nor by what others tell me is right

Not by what I think I would gain
Nor by how best to avoid risk of pain

I will not be controlled by any of these
But by my Spirit-filled self, when I’m on my knees.

LORD, do not ignore this quiet cry,
this spittle-bubble cry to you.
In my weakness, in my tiredness, from my empty well,
I pour out what little I have toward you.

My murmur is soaked up as it hits the ground,
my words evaporate before they are fully formed,
but before my knees hit the ground
you reach down and hold me.

You smile at my clumsy song,
you reach out and lift me
and with gentle patience you pour your warm milk into my emptiness
and you fill me with your loving kindness.

As I drink in your shadow, as I fill my belly, I find strength and I rise
like a new born calf, like a foal still finding her feet
I stand unsteady, but with my eyes fastened onto you,

I follow you into green pasture,
I walk in your wake and after each few steps you wait
and I see a mother’s pleasure in your eyes on me.

The LORD is a patient mother
the LORD offers the milk of loving kindness to her young
and walks with them into fresh pasture.

I learned gentleness from a giant of a man
whose reach
reached full round the world and deep into my wounds,
offering a strength and a healing
that was light as a whisper
and heavy as a salve
that gave off an aroma which took me back
to my mother’s arms,
her safe smell and the music of her song,
rocking me gently and teaching me more about strength
than any wannabe giant of any size.

He gave me a giant’s confidence to hold tight to Him
while holding all else in an open hand
– not grabbing,
nor forcing,
but holding out for Him
and His gentleness
that I find invites more
than it commands.

Wisdom is knowing how clueless you are
and knowing God doesn't need clues

Wisdom is knowing where your limits lie
and knowing that's where God's reach starts

Wisdom is knowing you deserve nothing
and knowing God didn't let that stop Him

Wisdom is knowing to ask for help
and knowing Who you're talking to

Out into the weather
out into the heat and the cold
the rain and the humility
the sleet and the unrelenting sun

Out into the weather
wondering when seasons will stop
running into one another with no respect
for long established patterns
and giving no latitude to longitude

Out into the weather
checking the signs
wondering what today will bring us
and so putting on our shades
and packing our umbrella