Almost Made It

It’s like someone played the wrong chord on a vital organ… now I can hear the rising score morphin and taking over. Taking over the senses it connects to, it connects four because the clouded eyes behind these glasses are pourin.

Somewhere, in a garden hidden inside a forest, a flower falls…

A hitch in the step of sunrise, not strong enough to break into dawn, the darkness of the void is granted more time. Unintended benevolence, ignorant of what’s ahead of us, fishin for love with negligence, forfeiting our inheritance, trying to attain a better trust. Empty handed in the end, facial expression incredulous.

Like a roll of thunder, the flower crashes powerfully to the ground…

The bees lose passion for their honey… Badgers crawl from the cracks and crevices to lie dejectedly on the sand… the deer come down from the hills… Butterflies self identify with the cocoon… there are tear drops on the leaf tips. The dew of a morning that will either never come, or never cease. It’s only Tuesday, but the pews are already filled again. Completely unsure of what to pray, just aware that there’s a fresh crack inside and they don’t know how to fix it.

The broken flower rolls, idly, across the ground… slowly losing life yet captured in the twilight of ineffable beauty… there is no redemption in this- and even if there was, it’d be unnecessary.

Every petal isn’t meant to be saved.

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The Dark One

This is what I do.

Drawn ever unto the light, but retaining my picture of imperfection. I can’t be framed, because I actually did it. I can’t condemn the world, because I’ve been cursed by spirit. The luxury of lackluster living spoils me…

I am the Shadow Man.

Sometimes I forget.

Sometimes hope sneaks up on me. Dreams sneak up in me. The sun blazes and I think its holy light can finally be the remedy.

…. but who is there to conquer when I am my only enemy. Enmity inwardly ending things instinct free… injury prone and found guilty.

I am the Shadow Man.

I can’t keep track of all the wrong things I’ve done. Can’t cling to redemption long enough to hold on. My heart freezes up and my fingers break. I am not Tris, not made dauntless, I am the loch ness forever locked inside his cage.

I am the Shadow Man. The Magic Terror. The Demon Dressed in Light. The Evil One. The Unholy Son. The Mare Rider of the Night. I quit everything except the darkness I dabble in, because when a man has nothing, he needs power and I’m too afraid to be powerless out in the sun.

I am the Shadow Man.

The unsolicited villain sullying and polluting the brook your story flows in.

No liberty bell can save me.

For I…

Am Rumpelstiltskin.

13

My childhood fantasy

Was to be a super hero

I remember praying to God one day

Promising to do my best to save the world

To never turn to evil

And to fight for goodness with every moment of my life.

I was ten.

13-ballThree years later I had the same dream

Had the same prayer

And it honestly seems like, I never really aged.

I still wish I had super powers

So I could make a real difference in this world

Perhaps that is why I always feel less than able

It’s hard to consistently and skillfully produce

When you’re satiated with “if onlys” and being ungrateful!

But wait a minute. I’m not a kid. Let’s examine the evidence.

13 made me wishful, but 25 made me capable.

I still cannot fly

But my words and smile take people to far away lands

I cannot move objects with my mind

But I can move souls with my hands

I cannot use the Force

But I can call upon the limitless power of hope

I cannot teleport

But there is no place on the globe that my prayers cannot reach

I can’t run at super speed

But I can be at the side of my neighbor in an eye blink

I still lack x-ray and telescopic vision…

But I can see God everywhere, in everyone and everything.

Hm.

Do not despair younger me

The Lord has answered our prayers after all.

###

One Day

One day we will learn that unity is cultivated by the lines that divide…
One day we will learn that all beliefs are temporary in an open mind…

One day we will see that truth and wisdom aren’t ours to barter and trade with for convenience…
One day we will understand that the struggle of identity is part of the human being experience, even Jesus…

One day we will grasp the folly in thinking we can change who we are through slick phrases and biological arrangement…
One day we’ll stop jabbing life’s book with our broken pens and learn to be adept at studying the pages…

One day we will believe we have purpose so strongly that we know freedom is not in the violating of these fleshly containers…

One day we will respect, not just the divinity, but the INTELLIGENCE of the Creator.

One day it’ll pierce our thick skulls through these skin walls that our issues and justice causes have root flaws that aren’t visible, they’re spiritual…
But until that day…

May we humbly increase in humility and actual understanding…

And may Grace liberally cover us all.

Life of a Queen (Dear Maya Part II)

(Dear Maya Part I)

**

Dear Maya,

Your passing hasn’t become any easier.

Sometimes your expired life arises inside my mind and I feel deeply inclined to cry.

But I am working on moving past that. Not to forget you, but to blossom from you.

You are the butterfly who discovered angel wings mid-flight… The ray of glory from which the celestial beings receive their cue… You are the irreplaceable imprint of God’s thumbprint upon the DNA of humanity. Grandma Angelou, you are truly what it means to be inspiration.

I know we are not truly related, but Grandma is what you are to me.

I slipped and fell into deep ravines, and found out I had wolves at my back instead of sheep. I’m a lion by nature, so I bristle by trade, but true royalty doesn’t obliterate people, it pulls them back from the grave!

Oh what a friend we have… in Jesus.

Grandma Angelou I’m beginning to understand. Like the legendary rose in the concrete, I am beginning to grow. Like the orchard in a palace courtyard during spring, I am beginning… to flourish.

Your hand is upon my back.
Your voice giving shape to my throat.
Your heart teaching mine a new beat.

And your love… your love IS.

And I am a part of it.

Thank you…
I love you…
I am sad we never got to meet…
But grateful that we will.

Happy Birthday Grandma Angelou. 🙂