Amidst the glory of the music
And the triumph of letting go,
The sun seemed to brighten every corner of the room.
It framed it into a picture
Painting out the beauty
Of the simple love
Friendship brings.
When the sun finally set and it was quiet,
I knew that I'd keep that moment with me forever,
And though the sun will be shining again,
I hope I never forget the way it shined
When we lived in that time-stilled moment
And all the world was, was
The sun and the music.

I read of this little orchestra of players
who made instruments of trash
reminded me how God uses strayers
like Moses, David, and Johnny Cash
recycled their failures into glory.
They found a flash or flicker
of faith to make a moving story.
They gave their flaws to the Fixer.

I see the detritus and lessons of my past
a guy whose mind was all over the place
who soared, swooped, leveled and crashed
was thrown out reaching for second base
whose heart was wounded, erratic and hurt
but had a treasury of teachers on his path
who inspired and encouraged the introvert
to use words instead of physics or math.

Yes, words became my friends
opened vistas of meaning and learning
paid limitless dividends
set my curiosity and wonder burning.
Fragments of imagination
bubbled up like a spring
moments of ****** inspiration
of darkness and light took wing.

The salve of poetry has brought healing
its warm oils and sweet scent
delivered me from darker feelings
gave me vigor when I was spent
gave me drink in the dessert
brought me moments of glory
in a world of hurt
helped me tell my story.

So like those Paraguay players
making music from trash
from all of life’s layers
of flowers and ash
I’ve been to the mountain peak
and to fertile green places
in my true voice I now speak
and swim in glorious graces.

Why should the Light return upon
Our cold and darkened land?  
When, into sleep, we drift and yawn,
So thoughtless of His hand...

We never think: "Someday it may
Forever cease to shine!"
We never thank – with thanks, befit –
For Morning Mercies' rise.

Why should the Light return upon
Our cold and darkened land?
But to awaken life at dawn
As He, in Goodness, planned...

We never, then, have an excuse
To fall into a dream
We never, then, can e’re accuse;
His Glory’s, daily, seen.

.

Endurance at its best
Standing still in time
To be made perfectly
To seek its clarity
You can decide
Preparation or
No return make
Sure your aware
When it's your turn.

The joke is that I practically chose
To be burning, and never get close
I know what I did was so wrong
I couldn't hold my tongue
But even far, far away
I can dream of having her someday
Her mouth is so pretty from here
Wish I could call her "my dear"
Even being so though
I am satisfied enough
Just to dream with her voice
Being away was her choice
So my destiny is just to be sorry
And never knowing the glory

The translucent glass
Small vines wrap around
It connects the inside to the outer shell
The bones of hollow
And the gloss of blues
Vivid to the eye
Reflections of light show themselves
The small mysteries of earthy heavens
The sounds of frigid winds carry
The small angels of earth
They blend and blind the blood ones
Those who stalk its lusterful beauty
To watch it float is like to watch a tear fall
Fall from the eyes of innocence
Glowing with flames of ice
Perpetual harmonious laughter
Ringing like small myths to the eyes
Glorious creature they are
Glorious they will be,
Those who fly