Fear of Man besets me on all sides
I am guilty of flight
I have not found trust
and rest for my soul

Be merciful, be merciful to me
I have not weathered the storm
I have run from it
Fear swallowed me up

Be exalted over all the earth
Over my terror
My peril
Blind me with Your glory

That I might know what I see
Is not my trap
But that of those who would trap me
You are mercy and truth

And You reach into me
Make my heart steadfast
So I may sing and give praise
That I may bring glory to Your feet



I took my pack
and my stave
sent my feet to the North
to the misty highlands
for to see God’s creation

Past the stone bridge
the river lane
between the throng of trees
do they e’er cross over
I wondered

Do they meet
now and then
when men have gone to rest
do they stride, stately
in their mossy cloaks

For as I walked
among those sentinels
they waved and they creaked
as if souls aching
to wander

The trees whispered
behind their broad
mighty hands
secret sayings
chanting, praying

These grand souls
lifted their cathedral arches
to the heavens
their mossy feet finely laced
in the earth

They were all at one
the ancient elders
the congregants
the foundation
and the vault

How could I be lost
in that forest house
striding as a penitent pilgrim
before their graceful pillars
they command reverence

I could lose myself there
in God’s majestic
brooding creation
that holy place
silent and vital

Under stained glass windows
of canopies unending
miles of green sparkling
in the blue and sun rays
I found myself

A little smaller.


April 3, 2017

Kindle a new fire
on the first day
lit from the cold ashes
of my sordid past.

Tear all that lingers
seared on my flesh.
Bring me away, bleached
bones, from long sands’ reach.

Remove this despair.
Unleash my fear.
Wed faith to my cries.
I have left thy side.

Bring me to ashes,
bent neath the dust
in a blackened robe
rough, bitter and cold.

These wandering eyes
my beating heart,
call them to new death.
End this endless breath.

Blind me with your hand.
Diminish me
into the shadow
behind the cold stone,

pierced and famished,
alone in ashes,
till you recall me
parched for want of thee.