Our God often waits away from the crowd, standing in the margins,
right up against your discomfort of being closer to the edge of others.

He invites you to intentionally trust incidental strangers,
because that’s where He’s made his home,
in the threshold of love, in each adjoining reaction, one to the other.

So go to the margins, to the verge of your comfort, reach out
and get closer to your marginal, desert road, cross-border God.

And there you'll find the ordained moment, the precious place of gentle surprise
and the sudden challenge that heralds adventures beyond what you can ask or imagine.

Step outside your norm, but within His plan for this day

and maybe – just maybe
you’ll meet an Ethiopian.

I remember it was cold and quiet. We stood up beneath the scattering stars.

Silently staring at the landscape outspread in front of us, where the mountain touched the sky.

Losing count on the steps taken, you wondered how many dreams townspeople had to reach the summit tower seen from afar;

Spreading lights randomly with no purpose to guide. Little yet arrogant. Like a candlestick being put on the top of the world, accidentally.

Or maybe, incidentally placed to embody the messiah for those who would discover it that way — which might be peculiarly irrational.

Despite the lame fact, it still mesmerized you. I just knew the moment your starry eyes were seen in the dim night. And out of the blue, it captivated me too.

We sneaked from the despotic night, releasing laughs from the deepest and most untouched alley in our lungs. Our fears were freed.

Nonchalant towards the thing ahead of us, even to the time that felt prematurely withered.

"I remember once this priest brought hope to our house, and we just followed him since then", you said. That’s how you told me that miracle wasn’t the thing that kept us living, but hopes that enlightened.

Unyielding lost in the most chaotic ecstasy I have ever encountered. It became that moment when a knock on the door wouldn’t be able to break our reverie.

Modest. Humble.

We then walked unafraid through the open door that led us to the home where the sun rises.

They wouldn't let me leave the office until I would look them in the eyes

I saw horrible things in their eyes

they wanted me to see horrible things in their eyes

if you talk
about it
they'll tell you
its just a case
of centring yourself
before
it builds up;
placing yourself
in the moment
and understanding
what cannot be changed

except
there is
no progression
no steady curve
it goes from
a carefully traced line
to a scratched
scrawling scribble
that tears
through leaf
after leaf
of paper
whether the message
is legible
or not

apparently
        its simple;
in that split second
between empathy
        and apathy
before the destruction
of everything
outweighs
the strength
of all
that has been
accomplished
i simply need
to breath deep
and
count
           to
                ten

i'm still waiting
to be told
what to do
when my count
reaches ten
and
i'm still
angry

Obsidian wind chimes
welcome the crashing waves
as another day exits, slowly
sinking beneath the bay.

Cool waters drenched in
an almost amethyst hue
offer mental reverberations
as I ponder what I am next to do.

Though the sea is but a tide
that ebbs & flows-
repletes & recedes-
her words of wisdom forgo
past the banks of her beaches
& spread a breeze to every corner
of night.

She beckons me within myself;
her deep abyss but a mirror.
Her waters shine in a glimmering splendor
as she makes the path ever clearer.

To leave this shore that raised me
is not a sign of disrespect, but a show
of honor. My broken levees have her
to thank & for that, I call her mother.

Aspiration? A tricky call.
I’m more than willing to give you a leg up,
but I can’t define where you’ll climb,
or I’ll be the *** who assumes

your *** might become an astronaut,
an assassin for hire,
or just gain enough cash to survive,
or be proudly working class,
or to clash with the establishment
and bring them crashing down
your *** might want to work
hard and fast
or be happy to rock up comfortably last
the amount of possibilities are vast
and equally valid and yours

I’ll lend a mind, some thoughts, some words to help
but for each self to realise themselves,
I’ll not assume,
we know what that would make us