Oh, Papa
renew the Nazirite, your son
He weeps
when on Your chest is one
who is his identity
Drip grace into his thirsting mouth
and turn his heart to the river of joy
that You buried in himself
Remind his searching mind
that gifts and callings are not removed
Nor good plans destroyed
For nothing keeps You
from looking out in love
or working out Your wonders

You work hard
To be smart
To be funny
To be love
But what screams itself to me unending
is your pain
It doesn’t stop
IT WONT STOP
and I don’t know if I should tell you
that I rarely watch you now
because every time I really look
the sound of your pain is deafening
I wish my ears would listen better
for the joy that’s hidden in your soul
Until that day I will pray
you will find it your loudest theme

Oh Bleeding Heart
up on a shelf
You always tug on mine
So rough around the edges
but without withholding any thought
You paint the surest picture of humanity
Watching you becomes like being pierced
with rainbow needles
It seems the Way you sing your life
You can’t open your mouth without spitting blood
You have your teeth and need no knife
I wish I was inspired to write for you a balm
But no such calm intrudes
Type 4s incite each other
Fire feeding off of Fire
fighting for a stage
at once against and together