Is it as I get older that I become less sure,
more inclined to explore,
looking for words that better call
for open minds and open hands
– letting our stones fall
to give room for embrace.

Is it as I get older that I sadden
at the confidence (arrogance?) of those
who fashion words as weapons
who channel living streams into moats
with no thought to building boats
with all efforts on draw-bridge defenses
less our certainties be conquered
by those with much bigger shields
and sharper swords.

Is it as I get older that my bent prayers
creak louder and are prone to deeper pain
and I better appreciate why Jesus barely contained
his despair at ill-disciplined disciples
and the divergence of their words and actions
because I am Peter and John – I run
with more questions than answers
but with tears at how he manages
to love me after all.