Family Time

We put the music away,
invited silence,
shifted our gaze.
i saw him, and him, and her, and her,
and you.
and you saw
me
and him, and him, and her, and her.
together.
individually.
we thought about
what
who
how
you are.
a ragtag band of miscreants and
a Holy God.

some stains

some stains refuse to be washed out:

mustard, wine, grease.

blood.

there are those that will swear to a remedy.

i have yet to see one

fully work,

fully clean.

out damned spot!

you proclaim my guilt as i,

head low, voice lower,

ask God

to attend on mortal thoughts.

i smell flowers.

i smell grace.

and i see on that ground

somewhat ascending

the wooden instrument

that laughed its way through a dirge

is that God’s blood i see?

oh scandalous joy.

for some stains refuse to be washed out.

The Reason

I saw those things you did,
      what you said
                      thought
                      felt
before they came to pass.
From up there on that mountain I looked down,
     saw the wind blow,
     saw the waves swell,
     saw your boat.
You were there, white-knuckled and scared and soaked.
I was there too - only damp shoes.
     I came to you - not to fuss
     about your poor sailing skills -

just for you.

Reflection on Strength

strength.
is that what we need?
to fight on
forge ahead
leave behind.
whatever.
is this what we have come to?
too weak to fight
too weak to resist
too weak to walk on
on our faces more than feet.
strength.
he told me it was what he needed
to stop falling for the same old 
temptations
trials
but more than that
strength to stop seeking
that which should not be sought.
strength?
i think not.
the more we lack
the more we gain.
His 
is better than
ours.

ashes and devils

ashes and devils.

battling the one

has made me the other.

struck a match and the pyre blazed.

i am no more than dust

and the devils laughed.

i expected (as i went down in flames)

to see them all red, with goatees

            pitchforks and tails and horns.

but alas…

            they looked - like me.

and where were you?

dressed in black, crying over my

            self-made urn

with your son sighing, “why did i bother?”

i lied.

they lied.

my eyes lied.

the only one that told me the truth -

            you.

but the devils (my evil twins)

they sounded reasonable, didn’t they?

“nothing matters.  you are damaged goods anyway.”

so i burned.

billows of smoke rising to an overcast sky -

even the stars found me ugly

and closed their rain-filled eyelids.

if i am resurrected, won’t the devils

live again?

such a circle of comedy.  of tragedy.

no.

no phoenix-dream for me.

scatter the ashes to the wind.

let my dust and devils blow away

to make room for something new…