Beautiful Things

A rose

A river

A monument

A grove of Chinese cherry blossoms

The lines organized

A borough with random Chinese cherry trees

Everywhere

A claw hammer

Extruding a nail from my heart

Sole planted on my face

Is to see beautiful things

Without you as friend

 

Everything is just short

Of beautiful

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To the Stars

To the stars in Christ’s palm I ask

Am I welcome here?

You may quickly respond, “Yes!”

But this is quite a hole I have dug for myself

Quite a bed I must now lie in

Should my brother sin against me in the same manner I have sinned against him, I would have trouble forgiving him

Turns out, he does not want to forgive me, and I have no beef with him because of it

But because of it I am not able to enjoy sanctuary well prepared at a very high cost

If I choose to give a gift from my bursting heart, I am unable because it is invalidated by his unwillingness. I am not free

If he wants to give a gift from his bursting heart, in my presence, he is unable because he hates me

You stars in Christ’s hand, am I to leave?

The spirit says to me that I am to leave. What does it say to you?

You stars?

Lumbering Love

Ask the angels who fly in mid-heaven

They are charged only with making certain the properly disposed hear the good news by competant bearers

Yet they will tell you of the unbounded joy I held while my feet were shod in readiness to declare such by your side beautifying our streets

No they are not bound with the lumbering clumsey messy details of our humanness

Yet they will tell you my love for you was true