Just, how cold?
Odd, the thought of passion
Should a sky have one to hold
Forever is now to fold, a prayer lasting...

Life in a walls shadow
Circumstance, with a youth's vow
Seek, and you shall find, all and know
A heart with happiness, only before how...

The sound of love...
Harried by a salt, a cursory share
Of decency, a proud covenant
With moments to quietly care...

Curious prayer's indeed
Means with a psyche, rounder eyes
Have the sense to see it, heed
A role in heaven, where one more life...

Is our's forever, fate in the first place
Sweet about, and a whole day to dream
Came as we went, from here to infinite praise
The truth of a world, taken to seem...

I believe in her.
Not in supplication or prayer,
But because she cares
About every countless hair,
Every fallen sparrow
And unopened flower.
I believe
In her power,
Her daily miracles.
She cries wet tears,
Her heart beats blood,
Her hands open and close
Around **** or rose.
She's no ****** deity;
She's not ascended beyond reach.
Not an image of pity,
Craddling a bruised and ****** body
(Though she would).
She is flesh and thought.
I believe
Because she is.

Can people be smart

enough to truly judge --


whether they believe?

I have looked upon his face
so many times
on windows that he graced
pictures on pages of the pious kind
relied upon his mercy
when all else failed
while calling his name in vain
after some ill or painful wound
but I have never looked
him in the eye
for fear that true belief
might trespass in my mind

waiting for the miracle

burning candles at both ends
on the alter of time
hanging out with false friends
the blind leading the blind
enraptured by belief
that we all have our chance
dreaming through existence
that some may call a life

waiting for the miracle

Where is the line drawn?
Between hope and naivety?
Where the swelling of one's heart is nothing more than a fool's boon?
Instead of being a warming energy that radiates to the limbs?

Is it experience,
Hard won through heartbreak and loss?
Is it wisdom,
Some innate talent that some just have?

Forewarned is forearmed,
To keep the danger at bay,
But at what point does that wariness become a cage?
From what distance is everything far enough away,
To keep out the terrors of the world,
But close enough to live your life?

I'll tell you,
Bear witness to my words,
A question is your answer in this paradox,
How much are you willing to risk?

How much are you willing to lose,
How far of a fall are you willing to take,
For the sake of living your life,
For when you open yourself up to the wilds of the world,
Is when you truly start to live.

Some things I will not say
I will not form those words
Lest they be heard
Lest they be believed
and the truth of self
be known.

No, some things I will not say
I'll keep their silence
Keep my distance
and stay quiet
safe on this side
of my deceit.

God disappoints us,

well, we'd better accept it:


He is who He is.

Passed down from one generation
to the next
not knowledge
but values - limiting beliefs

constraining, they were not healed
raised in the system, they knew only to heed
what is worse, their children plead
victims of the system their parents preach.