Bedtime Story

She looked as if a child gazing at her father’s face, while he reads bedtime stories

But this was no fable


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


It’s not the diamond stud

Or the golden hoop

It’s the teardrop earring, the kind a Flamenco dancer wears

A pendant which must be red, if you must know

This is what consoles and fills me with anxiety at the same time

The way they swing like a pedulum on a short string, when she suddenly turns her head

For an immeasurable moment causes my spirit to escape causing my soul brief death

Should you decide to don a pair, I will never know because I will never look at you again, unless greeted by you, because I believe that would really cause my permanent death

But in case you did, I would have to look because I would never be impolite to you