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100

100 times
i have hit
the publish button
shared thoughts
and feelings
pinned them down
in cyberspace
like a butterfly
mounted
frozen in time

100 times
pieces of my heart
and my life
have appeared here
shared with you
for your examination
for your contemplation
and it's healing
and it's progress
and it's worth the time

100 times
sometimes forced
sometimes with abandon
sometimes careful
sometimes throwing
caution to the wind
even in the cliches
even in the imperfection
somehow the words
capture meaning

100 times
a person
or a memory
or an experience
or a shared moment
present or past
or imagined yet to come
have found their way
crystallized
made more sense because

100 times
i have exposed
my underbelly
my deepest love
my oldest wounds
my fondest hopes
and i survived
the exposure
didn't kill me but
made me stronger

100 times
i have faced down darkness
asked hard questions
waited for answers to come
and they have appeared
in the next word
or the next line
or the next phrase
bringing light
and Love again

100 times
i have called down
Love
and power
and mercy
and glory
and every time
every single time
they rain down
again

100 times
i have celebrated
the ones who
mean the most
the ones who
give life worth
the ones who
walk beside me
the ones who
inspire me to be better

100 times
leaves a record
full of words
to be mined
for perspective
to be contemplated again
to be reworked
reframed
reworked
resolved

100 times
more than a year
make me resolve
to do more
to write more
to post more
to do better
bad poetry
important only to me
but still important

I Call Him Sweet Potato

"It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."
-J.K. Rowling "Chamber of Secrets"

Everything in him is intense
His anger
His humor
His sadness
His vulnerability
His love

He is such a clear picture
Of the new man
Warring with the old
The old pushes up - still angry
Still frustrated
But he constantly, insistently
Pushes back
Reaches up
Finds his way again
His humor and kindness
The Spirit inside him
Overwhelm the old anger

He doesn't melt down anymore
He doesn't shut down anymore
Not like he used to
He closes his eyes
And breathes in deep
And finds the man he wants to be

In him, I see
Boy-becoming-man
With unusual intentionality
Creativity
Sweetness of spirit
He goes for it - every time
He leaves it all on the field
He is being defined
By one choice he made
The choice to follow
And the thousands of choices
That follow that one

He has surrendered to Love
To Light
To Redemption
To the One who made him
To a will not his own
And he was transformed

And now, he stands in front
His guitar in his hands
And he leads us - his friends
His family
Others who would follow
Into the worship of the One
Who changed everything for him
The One he surrendered to

His talent
His character
His choices
His intentions
Framed by the one choice
The choice that changed everything

One for Paul

the words i hear most often
when i pray for him
are so clear
and so perfect
"he's my favorite one"
one with a child's heart
but a man's depth
one with kindness
and compassion
and gentleness
one who fights hard
one who keeps going
one has survived the valley
one who has stood on the mountain
one who walks beside his friends
one who relentlessly seeks
one who gives when there's nothing left
and the Father's heart
is so very pleased
with all that he is
and all he will be
all that was ordained
before a hair grew on his head
his path is straight
his destiny assured
the Love that won his heart
will hold him fast
this favorite one

sunday night haiku

i cannot even
begin to say how much i
want to say it all

and yet i am shy
of baring my heart to the
world at large beyond

this newness hidden
is not secret but safely
inside and growing

i cannot even
begin to say how much i
want to say it all

Hard

coming to grips
with the fact
that I am
simply not perfect
i make mistakes
i fail sometimes
with things that
matter to me
even with hard
work even with
close watch kept
on those things
i fail sometimes
i make mistakes
simply not perfect
trying to be
okay with that
is really hard

My Brothers

They are so tall
It strikes me every time
One of them walks through a doorway
Impossibly tall
Inexplicably



They have always been
My favorite source of hugs
But hugs used to be
Chubby arms around my neck
As I lifted them
One or two at a time
And squeezed them tight
Now hugs are so often
Them humoring me



With their muscled arms
And their wall-like chests
It is completely disorienting
Because when they look me in the eye
I still see tiny little boys
Hiding in those manly faces



All those diapers I changed
Countless baths and hairwashes
Sweet smelling boys I read stories to
And sang lullabyes to
And tucked into bed



Now effortlessly lift heavy furniture
And charm teenage girls
And astound their oldest sister
They are just so tall

At the Saucer

Beer flows freely
And music
And conversation
Winds between

Guards are raised
And lowered
Quickly or slowly
As the minutes tick by

In fleeting connections
And chance encounters
Friendships flourish
And great loves

And plates on walls
Tell stories
Of many glasses raised
Of the passage of time

And I sit
In a crowd tonight
But sometimes solitary
And ponder what it means

Prayer

words travel fast
the speed of thought
the speed of sound
fleeting
washing around and over
until a name is called
until a tone catches an ear
HELP
I am suffering
HELP
I am alone and afraid
HELP
I need you
words interrupting the flow
a voice breaking
in panic
or in despair
from a child
from a parent
from a sibling
from a friend
from a lover
catching attention
focus
yours and mine
and His
a name
a tone
turn our heads
incline our ears
increase - somehow -
the presence
already there

one of these days

one of these days
things will be easier
today's problems will be solved
or abandoned
today's worries will be realized
or forgotten
there will be sunshine
there will be laughter
there will be wholeness
peace will have soaked in deep
one of these days
we will be refreshed
and healed
made new
one of these days
we will look back to today
with its pain and confusion
with its hunger and anger
with its loneliness
and we will recognize the valley
that made the mountain seem so high
we are climbing
we are struggling
and we will reach the top
one of these days

change

sometimes
walking toward one thing
means walking away from another
into the unknown possible

sometimes
shoulders must be squared
breath must be inhaled
and space made for grieving

sometimes
walking from pain and anger
turning away, moving beyond
requires resolve and reinforcements

sometimes
leaving behind blessings from a season passing
takes even more effort, more force of will
and leaves a bigger hole to heal

always
walking toward one thing
means walking away from another
into the unknown possible

reflecting

I don't know the exact moment that it happened
in fact I am still astonished that it actually did

but there was a moment that I woke up
and you weren't the first thing I thought of anymore

your memory began to fade - and the hurt and pain that came with it
and the agony of rejection fell into the abyss

and all that remained were happy memories and some wisdom
your hold on me was entirely loosed and I had truly let you go

and your face does not hold the same draw for me anymore
you are no longer the one I want to give my life and my heart to

and it is deliverance and redemption - this feeling from having set you free
and becoming absolutely free of everything that was never meant to be

i am not yours...i never was
you are not mine...you never were

it is finished

Boundaries

All my walls have gates in them
Or holes where the stones
Have fallen away
Friends are free to come and go
There are no locked doors
Only signposts
And when security is breached
I know again
That perhaps some gates should be locked
Some pastures should be guarded
Some walls should be rebuilt
So that no means no
And yes means yes
So that I am safe to be myself
And so that entrance is coupled
With a remember that being let in
Is a gift

It is Finished

On this day
I took back my life
From the shackles
Of past mistakes
That held me fast
Binding me to choices
I regret - I loosed my hold
On stories that ended badly
On hearts and souls
That were not mine
That did not belong to me
On illusions that clouded
My hopes and dreams

I reclaimed my soul
And the freedom to give it away
Again to the One who redeemed it
Who made redemption possible
Who doesn't just forgive
But separates wrong from right
And looses dreams again
Dreams that will come
Hope that is reborn
Joy that wells up again

I was set free
For freedom's sake
And for Love
Both the Love already here
And the Love on its way to me
Across time and space
Love ordained to be mine
Love authorized and life-giving
Taking hold of the future
I called it into the present
I let go of the past
And its hold on me was broken
Written down on slips of paper
Burned into ashes
And washed away

heartsong: just a little cheesy

i know the songs you sing
in part because
they echo my own
sharing histories
heartsongs
two melodies suited for
blending into one
like a prelude
one part played
then the other
foreshadowing harmony
inviting blending together
your song and mine
i know the songs you sing

vulnerable

dark clouds on the horizon
bring too much rain
hard ground cannot absorb the flood
running into gulleys, seeking lower ground
gravity finding its ancient course
down toward the canyon
it floods
it saturates
it soaks in anyway
despite hardness
despite resistance
despite everything worn down
callouses formed
over picked off scabs
hard shells eroding into softness
risking erosion

storm

on the mountain top
the storm hid on the other side of the ridge
boulders and rock strewn paths
piling up behind
so when the storm broke
rushing in
noise and light
electricity descending
rain slicked those rocks
trecherous obstacles, scrambling, slipping down

you were not there
exposed on the mountains face
i thought you were the mountain
impervious to pain and fear
unphased by lightning strikes
I slipped on your immovable stillness
your unpassable silence, your unfathomable apathy
as I scrambled over the boulders
away from the light and the electricity
toward lower ground, heart pounding in my chest

fine

lonely in that quiet way
not entirely silent
whispering in my ear
you are not enough
you are not worth it
you will never have what you want
why do you bother trying anyway
it feels hopeless
it feels like abandon
it feels like the echoes of rejection
long since past
but it is numb
whatever pain is there
nerve receptors too overloaded
to begin to process it
compassion for those who slice
into their own skin
in order to feel that pain
instead of the numbness
understanding why
lacking either courage or cowardice to try it
not quite that crazy yet
but reckless still
reaching out for substitutes
looking for someone to share this space
to fill up the quiet
to stimulate the numbness
ready to stand on the tallest mountain
and shout
WHERE ARE YOU?

Night

Night is long
Darkness in the beginning
Before your eyes adjust
Overwhelms everything else

Night is long
And walking alone
It is so easy to stumble
To lose your way in the blackness

Night is long
It seems to stretch endlessly
Promising more darkness
More obstacles, more fear

Night is long
But it is not forever
Even as it stretches out
Without the faintest hint of light

Night is long
But it moves imperceptibly
Toward morning - its darkness
Is not eternal

Night is long
But dawn will break
Light will flood again
So that darkness is only a shadow

Night is long
But daybreak is inevitable
Every moment drawing nearer
To the first glimmer of morning

Soul Ties

it is a cliche
that giving your body
gives away your soul

but in cliches lie
buried truths hidden - depths of
familiarity

ties that bind deeply
pieces of hearts existing
outside a body

portions of wholeness
ripped, ignored, and rejected
floundering alone

I want them back now
those pieces of me given
thoughtlessly reckless

I do not want to
hold these pieces of other
hearts any longer