"The prophecies of the land, these I can believe"
"We are looking for a heartbeat that matches our own"
and that is not found walking
or resting among us
or under or own hands
sighing sign
that a mother's heartbeat may be
the child seeks a greater breathtaking
is made in the image of the truly alive
is to be made truly alive
that is the prophecy for man, child
the breath-filled life that comes to us
that we do not find in our searching
that is strange
but so very familiar
Between Eternity
in the morning, darkness
the sky green, then purple
the mountains appear, though
darkness still abides
black On black
where there is no luxury
no chance for merit, the desert , God, granting purchase in sovereignty
but the tension, knowing that the luxury, the water-fat is still where I am
God is near in the desert
One Foot In The Dust
Tirelessly seek forgiveness
Restlessly confess
Repentance is not restful
And so, as the Psalmist's warriors
who hardly perceive we are so
We await, exhausted even
even as we are poured out
as we march
toward our rest
Without ceasing
as others we've forgiven
what sun has made you
weep in your exile
your destitution
Though you may see well
the hidden things
belong to God
Who made his Servant
spend out His life
in this penitence
Struggle for purchase
and strive for breath
yet do not flourish
for with the sun
withering and waste
are the lot for them
should no hope be from Him.