And so he slid
Closer to her side,
and although her ***** was ever
so apparent, he did not look down.
He gazed softly into her eyes,
they were entranced with the nostalgic desire to know her better; satisfaction that he was sitting
beside her.

And so she allowed
him to draw near.
Her eyes rested down
at the button on his
lapel.
She was wary of what was to
happen next,
but she could not say that
she would ever refuse him.

And so she looked
UP, edging her eyes
from his lips to his forehead.
She stared into him, sure
of what was to follow.

So he edged
Even closer to her.
Lips growing warmer by the second.

It was clear.

He wanted, to kiss her.

And so he lowered
His head down, and there she laid.

Her Demerara skin sparkling in the night's light,
it's glittering being made her more beautiful than any
woman he had ever seen.

The wind stood still as she gazed into his eyes.
Their affection was heard.
Their desire was palpable.

But still they lay, head side to side.
white cushion beneath their necks.
The sea's scent cascading before them.

And now his hand.
Placed on her cheek.
They understood that this moment could not be what they desired it to be.

And so they pull
Their backs UP and create a space
between themselves.
Their retraction from one another served as
a proclamation of their love.

So now they sit.
Demerara skin and all.
One hand clutched, they gaze into each others eyes
content that they would be all that, until they became.
All that.

Through storms, Christ sustains,
In shadows, His light remains,
Peace and hope, He reigns.

Lord, I live for you as you lived for me
I give you my all you gave everything for me
It is so hard to accept this gift sometimes
It's so overwhelming, this love outpouring
And it is all I can do to simply be adoring
You only want my happiness
You desire only my joy
You sing over me and you smile
You gaze at me in awe and wonder and love
What else can I do, but live for you
I believe Lord, help me to receive you
More fully into my body and my soul
Take it all Lord, for I give you control
I surrender to you though it hurts
So live and move and breathe in me
I make my life an offering of love
So as to live for you, my God, above

You are good: so, so good to me
Father in Heaven, you never let me down
All the good that is in me is from you Lord
You are Holy and Perfect and Blameless
And, by the precious blood, you make me spotless
You come running out to me to embrace me
When I turn around and come back home
You are waiting; arms flung open wide
You held me close while we both cried
Tears of sadness and pain, healing and relief
In this flood of tears comes a flood of peace
Lord, let me rest in your presence for a while
And Lord, always help me to live for you

Oh, my soul, rejoice and be joyful in your King
For He is good and has created everything
Oh, my soul, take flight and soar above the clouds
In the air that fills your wings, let go of any doubts
Rejoice in the one who made you and calls you his own
He has found favor with you and made his home
Oh, my soul, be still and quiet and free
It is in those places that you will find your God to be
Reach up to Heaven, ascend to Him on high
Be at peace with the glorious divine sigh
But he who sits on the throne is also very near
And, as I sit, one thing seems quite clear:
Rejoice, my soul, in every time and every place
Because everywhere you look is the Lord's face
He loved you so much he died to show
That his love is real and not just a show
He died so you could be set free
By his Hands and Feet, nailed sin to a tree
Rejoice, my soul, for your God is risen
To break you out of spiritual prison
Rejoice, my soul, for healing in pain
Life in death, and loss in gain
Sing with one clear voice
Oh, my soul, rejoice

Christ and disciples
gaze from the stone tympanum —
Frozen redeemer

In darkness, a church
of carved Baroque stone
catches me walking
unawares and alone.

Two stone hands reach out
from the church outer wall.
A gesture of blessing
or a prayer for us all

in stony carved silence
that echoes the voice
of a God we can’t hear,
who stays quiet — by choice?

Just when we need
to hear they’re right here,
they feel like a veiled cloud
that is more distant than near.

Still these outstretched hands
remind me of this:
Divine’s in the touch
of human hands’ godlike gift.

The bright death of a star
lights the black night from afar.

Astrologers walk from east to west
and follow the nova’s fiery arc.
The burst of white in heavens’ dark chest
gives sign of a birth, love’s new spark.

They walk on through sandy shards of this earth,
past broken glass of our days
to find the one whose heralded birth
gives hope that our world is reglazed.

Held in their hands are gifts replete
that tell what the child will become:
Gold for a king, sweet incense for a priest,
for a healer, myrrh that will scent his tomb.

And the lodestar that died
signals the birth of a child
whose death and rebirth
lit a new star on this earth.

Selah.

Each year I watch them travel in a snow globe
that hangs upon my Yuletide fir tree,
a glowing glass sphere where waters flow
’round these Magi walking magically free.

Standing as objects in the mirror – do you still objectify the lessons
of your past, reflected in the rear-view? Words are unnecessary now;
your scars have been reopened – haunting illusions.

Resurrected from the place where you once buried your dreams –
down to earth, yes, yet stripped bare by the relentless erosion of
existence. We rise to the thunderous stillness, questioning our very existence, yet finding no answers in man—responding to the chaos
around us, colliding like two wayward planets in this small world.
One day, we shall encounter familiar strangers, yet it will feel
peculiar to label any of them as friends.

In certain moments, I feel as though I am crossing myself out beneath
the weight of the cross, feeling an emptiness within— "survivor's
guilt"?

No… that guilt placed upon me has been paid already, not by my own
cost – yet for the cost of something more profound. And I willingly
surrender myself to a purpose that transcended death, then to endure
a life filled with trivialities, only to feel nothing until the very end.

                         That profound purpose is… my faith.

In the sallow sea of sable ink
that breaks upon my splintered prow,
fire beacon’s beam a-lightly winks
and casts gold light upon my brow.

I see a man walk on the swells
and wave to me through sheets of sleet,
his silver voice a tolling bell
that beckons me to take the leap.

His shining rope crests upon the waves
that rend my vessel in tempest flares:
Across black brine the lifeline sways —
My callused hand will take its dare

to grasp the line that more life gives
and feel its pull to once more live.