To all the Lords and lofty,
Who pile their treasures high.
To all you, well and healthy,
Remember, you too shall die.
——
To all the low and lonely,
Those, who beg and cry.
To all you, men of wasting,
Remember, you too shall die.
——
To all the wretched sinners,
Who steal and cheat and lie.
To all you, evil doers,
Remember, you too shall die.
——
To all with good intentions,
despite all you might try,
To all you, keepers of the law
Remember, you too shall die.
——
No matter birth or standing,
Despite what men may try.
All are equaled in their final days,
For each shall surely die.
——
But to those whom grace was gave,
Whose life is his hid on high.
They lay down their life to take it up,
To live is why they die.

Tall buildings, black sky,
Across the asphalt river
parties roar.
Crisp winds blister through the
city block.
I inhale; smoke burns.
My nerves ease…

New Years Eve…

Let snow fall upon a weary heart.
Years come and go.
Ages pass with many breaths,
but what of these smoked filled
lungs?
I fear, no joy for me…

Year of Jubilee…

Come, oh, blessed city, come.
When will ages cease to pass,
like the smoke upon my lips?
Then I will rejoice in a
New Year.

No comfort shall I ever find
in this, my empty home,
where lowly vessels are but cracked
and water never flows.
—–
No hope here shall I ever place
in such a state as this,
where desires are but empty dreams
and love, a trader’s kiss.
—–
No joy shall I ever seek
in such a shallow stream,
which cannot hold the swellings of
my heart and deepest dreams.
—–
No life is there in such a place
that like the lilies fade.
There beauty is but for the day,
but dry in evening’s shade.
—–
No longings shall I here esteem
O turn, return my heart,
for all I find under the sun
will soon, must soon depart.

I write you with WorD and BreadtH.
But all WordS are not the same
upon each lip that speaks,
for each one comes from unique lungs,
the finger print of every BreadtH.
——  
They say that God BreatheD life
into that first man
who was created by the WorD.
And life is never so near
as when we BreathE.  
For WordS are the shape
that each life takes.

I shall praise you for your mighty deeds,
for what your hands have wrought.
And though you may have slain me so,
your praise, I still have sought.
–––
I shall sing to you when my sun has set,
when my darkest night is nigh.
And though my tears may not depart,
I’ll praise you whilst I cry.
–––
And my enemy, he seeketh to
undo this grateful heart.
But through trials you give me greater praise,
than when I first did start.
—–
With discipline you’ve lead a sheep,
who so often went astray.
Your rod and staff, they keepeth me,
so I’ll praise them all the day.
—–
And, O that Valley, though deep and dark,
becomes my Vale of praise
For Christ, he blazed this road of woes
and guides me in his ways!
—–
And if my soul shall ever lose
its praise amidst the night,
Sweet faith, small faith you giveth me
‘til faith shall be made sight.
—–
For who has known such love to praise?
Who has such a one to thank?
He who knew no sin was sin for me;
Praise God, Praise God with thanks!