on the edge
of this ravine, I’ve stood
so long that the grass has grown
between my toes, moss hanging off
my fingers in tendrils,
wildflowers in my hair,
but today it is time to move.

the darkness yawns wide, though
it wasn’t always this way.
once, it was a child—
like all grown-ups once were.
once, it was just a crack in the dirt,
the product of a thousand tiny
earthquakes.

when i was a child, running
free as the wind,
i stumbled to a stop at its cusp.

i became afraid like a
fawn turns to a deer with
wide, wide, wide eyes
darting around as the fish
in a crystal sea.
i spent all my years, frozen
there until the chasm grew and so
did i.

but today, i take the leap.

i shake off the dust and replace
it with steel, steel drum for a heart with
a beat for every step,
one foot in front of the other picking
up speed, until suddenly i am
f l y i n g.

fear?
in another life, perhaps.

Confidence used to be
Like a shelf I couldn’t ever quite
Reach.

But turns out, I just needed to
Get up off of my
Knees.

Waves in handmade glass
in old peeling wooden panes —
Ripples on the pond.

Enter In

Stand now before the heavenly gates
Made clean by the blood which expiates
Come now before the resplendent throne
Lift your voice in praise with trumpets blown
And here bowing down in adoration
Come one come all and enter in

Open my heart open my mind and soul
Help me to focus on the final goal
To be as one in spirit and in flesh
With Christ the Lord whom I so bless
That I may learn and grow and be taught
And reflect Him in action and thought

Come to love Him who loves so deeply
Know the one who knows you so completely
Lose yourself in the sea of total surrender
Find healing in the arms strong and tender

S e  e  s-t-a-bil-i-ty           becomes the center
                                  When
                                     HE

                   ——————————
The doors |                               | are open wide
                    |                               |
                    |                               |
                    |                               |

                               So just
                              
                               ENTER
                                   IN

And when you do:

STOP
for a moment
.
.
.
.

Inhale deeply and fully the subtle scent
Of change in you on the smallest scale
And in your bones know that love will not fail
Should the earth crumble and sun lose it’s fire
His burning love for you shall not expire

Dare to enter in more deeply today
Open yourself more freely

and be
        
              s  
                     w    
                              e      
                                        p      
                                                    t

                                                               away

People have told me
       not to look
back because if you look
back you won’t be
       looking                      forward.
     So, I’m                       forward
       facing and trying
       not to look
back because what if
         I look
back and my wheels
         start rolling
back? And what if
I look
back and I loose sight
of what is forward?
But you cannot
look forward
always. You
        need to look
back sometimes or else
       you might crash.
         Looking
back doesn’t always mean
stopping.
         Looking
back can show  you
       what is                       forward:
        who might be coming,
advancing, whether
you need to slow
down or speed up.
Sometimes it’s
        necessary
to look
back in order to go forward.

We are like bread.
Bread has three irreversible modes:
dough, bread, and toast.
many things in life, if not
everything in life
have many different forms.
we are all in the different stages of bread
and yet
we criticise and judge ourselves
for moving and changing
and needing a new environment.
The suitable storage for dough
differs vastly to the suitable storage
for bread
and yet
we do not mock it
but facilitate it.
We could learn a thing or two
from bread.

[1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 0 and repeat]

We
fit toge
ther seamlessly
like the numbers on
a digital alarm clock,
moving without hesi
tation, from one figure to
the next, a movement of time transi
tioning,  unsettling, unnotica

bly building on and constructing ourselves
within the construction of time
itself. We are the only
static constant, the on
ly reliable source:
time keeps moving
forward, and
so will
we —