Oft there come these pitch black nights
Untouched by heaven’s perfect lights
And in those nights we fail to see
Lost in darkness, but alone by no means

For lights soon prick the canvas, black
And with their beams loneliness lack
But carry with them friends, or love
They come with Truth the dark to prove

So lose not hope in blackest dark night
But pray until you see the light
For clarity accompanies luminescence
And faith shines forth in clarity’s presence

I stepped outside,
Felt the slap of winter’s
Icy breath
And stood beneath
The rain-soaked pines

Drops dripped

I looked up, fists clenched
And felt a wet ceiling above
A great ice wall betwixt me
And the sky
Unleashing and spitting upon me

Drops dripped

The Lord had taken my joy
I said
Had swept my feet from under
Like a scythe at harvest
My precious things in their
Full bloom,
Their life and blood on the earth

Drops dripped

A Letter: On A Morning, One Week After You Left
The garden's fence was dressed in morning glory.
One liverwort's crescent held its last gemma.
A cruciform blossom evoked the trilemma -
How can that Soul be sent to Upper Story?
The dampened soil was fresh with petrichor
(Which I discovered when the rain had stopped
Its long unceasing murmur; up I propped
The window in that room of vellichor
You always sit to read in when you come).
Beyond the fence, dew-dropped viridity
Was dancing on the spring-leaves of the Plum

When I look at the sky, and see ten thousand stars
Cradled in Your loving hand,
I take a moment and ponder on the wonders
And the vastness of Your Land.
Your majesty and Your infinite Being
Of holiness and glory;
Your gentle eyes on me that are always seeing
My poor and finite story.
Poor and finite no more: for You have done a work;
You have made me immortal;
As Holy King You lift me gently when I shirk,
You've opened Heaven's portal.

 Eerie mist blankets the road,

Golden sunlight bursting through

A forest draped in silv’ry gauze

Midst pre-dawn stillness and dew,

He is there, watching o’er us.

At sunrise sisters journey through the woods,

Blades of grass bend beneath their running tread,

They stop to gather flower and feather,

And watch the deer and her kin far ahead.

And He is there, before us.

Grey fog rises from the field of dreams,

Color streaks the sky beyond the hay

**It's short, but there was nothing else to post it with.**


flick, flame
lick, claim
it starts to burn.

sparks fly in empty sky
no stars, no light to see.

we’re starting paper fires
burning bright as supernovas—

sparks find my empty mind
all I want is light to see.

we’re starting paper fires
bright, bright burning—

like supernovas, they don’t leave
anything behind.

you can’t save a star like you save a sandwich;
believe me, I’ve tried.
you can’t eat half and put the rest in the fridge saying,
“oh, I’ll save a bit for later.”

you can’t press them like you press flowers in a dictionary
flattened somewhere between “moth” and “mountain”
they always get rumpled, and they never come out right,
because anyway, they can’t read, and they get bored in there.

you can’t wrap them in foil, or plastic
or fancy cloth napkins

A hundred shooting stars
A wish for every one
A hundred silent dreams
That I should never want.

Dance with me, elegant shadow!
take my warm fingers into your cool palm,
dance with me, dance with me, shadow!
across the moonlit lawn

Dance with me, bright-eyed shadow,
and spin me through the pale light
of the clock-face and star-falls
of the first autumn night

Dance with me, fleet-footed shadow!
Let the music be our guide,
let the notes of the bat-calls keep ringing
as they flit beneath the sky

Star-strewn, it glitters
blackened, and bright

The sun has withdrawn its last warm rays,
leaving the earth to cool itself in the dark.
The ground relinquishes the warmth of the burning days,
as the air chills in the indigo dark.

A breath of wind ruffles my hair in passing,
pressing into my skin soft fingers of cold.
Greedily it snatches the warmth of my breathing,
giving in return a lungful of cold.

The silence seems to numb my cold ears,
no one else has ventured into the night.
I haven’t felt this alive in years,
Breathing and walking in the dark cold night.