 How do we give
when we know not where we are standing and what we have been Given? How do we receive when we know not what we hold now and what will take its place? Blessed we are with eyes for such wonder, the capacity to receive a world overflowing with joy But cursed we bleed with such abundant wealth, a sensory drowning a deprivation of the soul For we walk in a battlefield grasping at our attention as we strive for something Greener mistaken for the other side So I keep my heart open receiving the moment for what it offers Always knowing in my being It is for giving that I receive It is for giving that I receive It is for giving That I receive
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 Poems are born
When simple words Fall together Landing in the Discarded joy Left behind By those fleeing faith In half chewed thoughts Longing instead For something a bit Sweeter Capable of quenching The unrelenting thirst For that which seems Irreparably palatable Forgetting along the Way That buried in the Fragments Of long forgotten faith Remains the sacred Space Where words find joy And poems are born  I watched
A windowless world Struggle Burn Suffer Breathe to fight the forces of fear So that windows could be built Within wasted and wailing walls Not knowing That only breaking Not building Would do See me and my pain they cried Lay eyes on my hurt they pleaded Just witness the weeping of my wounds they begged And to the voices I wept back I see you Even with eyes closed I see you Even with miles separating our souls I see you But to see You see Is not enough For In truth For me To be And know your pain I cannot just see You or me I must feel And seek The collective we The we that rises From the shards of broken glass Discarded with the thought That there ever actually was A you An other Anything but we  Without you
There could only be two Too much to do For who really knew There was one in two Me as you We become new Fleeing the view That there could be few For In Christ we grew One soul in two |