How do I know God listens,
I don't.
He could,
He couldn't.
But I'd guess he does,
Because when I wished not to suffer it was,
And whence I wished for love it was,
But not without my hand in work,
Tilling God's land.

where are feelings aren’t involved – feels like we’ve evolved
backwards; undecided on whether we’ll do it for gain or the
appearance of love; this life lacks resolve. from a mortal heart,
is this strangely undying immorality – an act of all our sin being
washed off our backs, though pieces of it seeming much harder to
dissolve.

at this gravesite – would the flowers you bring for me often,
be the ones picked out of your heart; or just be a bunch of weeds
to pick on me one last time, where you washed my face with your
crocodile tears in my coffin.

would the angels and I be laughing – knowing that those who
spit on your grave will one day meet you again. you could still
water my grave in spit; I’ll still grow you pretty flowers.
they’ll hate you secretly, yet join you in saying Amen.

it’s okay… we pray for them often, to deal with the hate
they have towards themselves.

Prayers don't go anywhere
They are encapsulated
In our air down here

You have shown us, Oh Lord, the power of your judgement and the greatness of your mercy. The prayers of the faithful and the just will not go unheard. Their cries do not fall on deaf ears. The Lord has spared me from his wrath. He has delivered me from danger. Your blessings and mercies are new each day and great is your faithfulness as the sun will rise once more.

In the grand spell of words, let me etch this sentiment into your heart –
I find myself so tired, like a Toyota limping along with a missing hubcap.
My carpet smile, never held the weight it should have; you revelled in
The tickle of my beard as our lips met. Yet, as soon as we grew distant,
I shaved it away, a symbol of our fading connection, a relic of this
Relationship becoming one of long distance.

Typing my feelings onto the screen, though the true message of them
Weren’t delivered so well, failing to convey the depth of my despair.
I began to loathe myself, believing that the love I once held for you
Was a tether, leading you on to lead you astray. “I’m sorry,” I whisper,
But deep down, I always knew you were destined for someone far
Greater than I could ever be, or at the very least, someone who would
See you as the answer to their most fervent prayers.

I guess you weren't the answer to my prayers...

It’s time for the people to form a decision
Just see how they struggle to hold a position
With lines in the sand
They can all take a stand
In a loose coalition of bold opposition

Heavy prayers that fall on deaf ears
Day dreams that my worries all disappear.
In a dark space and I cannot see the light
At the end of a tunnel full of fears that won’t subside.

I beg and plead, “Lord, please bring me change”.
I beg and plead, “Lord, please help me through all the pain.”
But God don’t answer, and he leaves my heart wide open
I expect nothing, but ****** I was hoping…

Harvesting all the blooms
the cherry red dahlias and sunlit marigolds and buds with hues of ambient mornings thinking of how it feels to touch the sunrise and upholster the wind to this couch
where a turbulent heart rate tends to rest

wondering if in all the laughter and friendship and years and years
of things to talk about, to hold onto
to catch distances in my hands
and rest them on my palms
with all the wonderful things you will do

I work in my garden growing mornings
ones I pray will bring upon a rain
that will shower on the places
where you happen to be
that will sink into your grounds
and give you everything you need
To flourish