but,
I think it's a brave thing to do,
when you start something new.
allowing the past to assist/not lead,
admitting you're not the best/ but trying to be,
therein lies true strength/ authentic humility.
not to disrespect/ just to overcome,
the need for perfection/ the rush to get it done.
because in poetry we can say it,
in any which way we want.

I strive for each parting to be well made.
Not in silence, nor in haste,
but in honesty and good humour.
For each parting may well be a conclusion
or perhaps a foundation
if only we knew the truth of it.

So let us not step away without observing
and, be it only briefly, examining
what we have had in this, our good company.

Let us not turn our eyes without first
seeking the light of this truth
- that we have sown to good effect,
that our God has purposed
something of Heaven here.  
And it will only be in the reaping erelong
that Heaven's Kingdom will be established
It is only then her King is enthroned
in the hearts of his creation in concert.

My brother, my sister,
- let us see this end, this parting,
as one well made in the sight of our Maker,
the good Maker of each joining
of every parting.
Indeed let us know this
as a parting that our Maker
has truly well made
and in His careful making has blessed it
with his countenance.

And so, let us part in his rejoicing.

The urge came.
Desire filled my breast
and before I knew it
I was flung from one corner to the next,
a branch iced over and shivering
as the tempest of want threatened
to shear me from my past,
to break me.

The urge left me
yearning to be carried away
to a place far removed
from these safe harbors;
over lands where I knew no names
and had no kin,
To a place unfamiliar,
but where the breath of God filled the air
and made sweet the prospect of new beginnings.

Some things get past death,
But not what's right
And yet neither what's left.

It's like a portal as obelisk,
It's like an orb of light that's electric.

No matter how you view it-
It's all lookings, each perspective.

It's a thin bridge,
A causeway that's been setup for you
If you just find your way
And choose to walk it.

If you're not careful,
And you're not a wanderer nor sailor,
You'll slip and fall into the marsh.
And that's like a nefarious ocean.

If next time around
You want to remember;
Walk the steep mountain passes,
Down through the valleys,
Past the swamps & wetlands,
Through the deserts & oasis,
In the towering forests & clearings,
The fields of caverns & caves.

You just have to figure it out
Before you die.

Have you been learning?

The last time you said that you screamed it, "******* parasites, always looking over my fence." although there was no one there. It stayed like that for a few weeks. It was obvious the wobblies had turned on you, no more safe place for a union supporter.
             The tracks that lead to out of town kept rearing through your skull as if an invite had been sent through some unknown path of communication. The maddness lasted, sometimes it was worse. One day in particular you pinned your curtains closed until there wasn't one speck of light to be seen inside. "They're coming, you wait, they are timing everything". On that night you ran the shower and shut the door. As steam arose into the room you swallowed twenty sleeping pills and placed a plastic bag over your head. Radio blearing in the backround either for comfort or to drown out any sounds of gasping or both! When they wheeled you out of the house your arm fell off the side of the stretcher as if you were saying goodbye. You would have been embarrassed at the thought of your cold white hand waving. You were angry and scared and had said goodbye years before. There was no need of one last. You left like you came, sadly and yet somehow smiling as if you might have known something no one else did. Maybe you did sweetheart, maybe you did.