Till Death do us part.

Oh my dear,

You have never been this lovely

Your eyelids sparkle almost naturally.

Not a single hair

 Is out of place.

A snowy white dress

 Outlines your figure without flaw.

 All of our friends and family

Are here inside this little chapel.

Smiles stretch as they remember

The wonderful times we’ve had.

Salty drops of water stains the cheeks

As they realize

 A new season has begun

You almost hold a smile

As if a secret hides behind your eyes.

No one can see behind

The long lashes holding

Those large blue moons of yours.

In front of the long lined pews

You never move.

The wood croaks

As though the weight

Of all the people

Finding rest upon their shoulders

Has become too much to bear.

Honey, you filled the room.

I am here at the front

Waiting for a miracle.

My nicest suit pressed and cleaned,

Rests upon my shoulder,

Buttons to my stomach

Clings tightly to my waist

Wraps like seaweed to my legs.

You deserve the best from me.

I sense despair is creeping

Inside me, as I stare

Into your custom home.

The wooden box

You find yourself encased.

How strange to think

Of your new bed here,

Cold and in the ground

As opposed to where

It used to be

Warm, curled up to me.

Now I feel the weight

The long brown pews sing on about.

2012: Start

This is it. This is the start. A beginning to something new. Such a subtle movement, a simple transition. If you weren't paying attention you would never notice. So strange how such vivid memories can be torn down with such little regard. I am becoming something, transforming into a being. I can't say I am excited, I am not even sure where this leads. But today is a new day.

My chest moves slowly. it's knows. My eyes are wide, blissful with excitement. My feet are ready, pressed forward, muscles straining. The stars are changing, the moon smiles. Everything is quiet, at ease for this moment, this single moment. We see the sands falling into their place, the plastic cube lingers on the corner, the second hand resists before stepping into place... then it begins. Suddenly rushed, spiraling into fierce magnificent blends of color and emotion. Like a practiced dance the long creatures dance in a manner that creates light, expansive and mysterious; moving yet without chaos.

And I am content. My heart beats faster as my body begins to relax. I know I am not giving up. I am simply beginning.

The Shepard

It was a long time ago, but it is a moment I won't forget.
He sat, quiet and alone. It was just him and I in the room before they came.
He was old but aware. He sensed his time was near. Neither of us spoke. He simply sat there. His body suggested his mind was in a meditative state. If I hadn't seen his eyes I would have thought he was asleep. He was looking at me, through me. Filled with great sadness, it was as if he was reaching out for understanding. He needed to know that I forgave him for what was to come. As his servant what I was meant to do. I prepared a meal. I brought out the silver utensils, The wine glasses and fine threaded cloths. The table was prepared before him.
He was content it seemed, at peace when they came. He never touched the food. He simply smiled at me. He was thankful for my service even after his betrayal. He never took his eyes off me. Even as they killed him. The peace he carried with him surpassed mortal understanding. He died with love in his eyes.
Even though I walk through the shadow of the valley of death I will fear no evil for you are with me. Your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

like dust

Answer, but speak quietly. The opening is beginning. The dance will start soon. The fluttering of the wings. The broken, hidden mishaps form into a spectacle on the center of the stage. No longer a child. He cries, gripping to the fading of his youth. Unspeakable features tend with age, shapely fingers, and large frames for glass cover once bright, and innocent round blue eyes. Clinging clothes keep the body warm. Cooling temperatures, the body slowly fading into a resonance of remembrance. Just remember the blue. The cold, welcoming blue. It heightens thought and breaks hearts. The thought keeps the mood light, but all know what lingers, just a step away, just an ignorant nurse, just a distracted driver, just a spark of light. Just. Fragile, in all ways. So afraid. So scared. We don't want to die, but we don't want to live forever. Stuck in limbo. Did I live right? Did I make use of what I was given? Should I have? Will I? Did I?
Just a moment, that's it. Then all things fade.

Psalms 13

Nothing is more killing to a soul than the want of God's favor; nothing more reviving than the return of it.
It is a constant battle. a war that will never end till Christ has completed us on the day of Resurrection. That question is always on our mind, that question should always be on our mind.
Where is God? Are you near me Lord? Each day a new thought stirred by a different emotion. We are fickle beings. Our mind and body age, but our heart stays young. From the moment it begins beating until the moment it stops, the human heart works tirelessly. The heart yearns for intensity whether through the excitement of joy or the distraught of sorrow; it is awoken by movement.
I must say I am inclined to follow such a stirring muscle group.
When troubles come it is easy to succumb to the desire to mold to the emotion attached. "How long O Lord? Will you forget me forever?(2) Our heart tells us with such confidence that the misery that is ever present is a direct cause from a growing distance between God and us. How easy it is to believe such an atrocity when our heart screams the feeling insanely. In such moments I must turn to my soul. For my soul knows that Christ will never leave me or forsake me. The Lord has called me out of my sins4 and has dealt bountifully with me.2 So I must lean on my soul for it knows the joy that comes from the salvation Jesus has given me. Despite the every raging thought, that I am at fault, for my sins are clamoring to be free, those closest to me have forsaken me, and my heart screams my God is far from me. Oh, how I must take refuge in the foundations that Christ has given me in him. My soul knows that the lord my God goes with me and He will never forsake me.(1) But for how long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day? Will I live in misery always?
     The conclusion I find myself clinging to is that if my hand causes me to sin then it must be cut off,(3) if my emotions cause me to stray I can no longer follow them. If I am to live with an ever lingering sadness, then so be it, for my soul knows. I can hold to the promise that as I trust in your steadfast love, oh God, that one day, I can hold to the thought where my heart and my soul align, where my desires fade and yours will shine, and from the depth of my being, my heart shall rejoice with my soul, the joy in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord for He has dealt bountifully with me.(2) finally when I am asked Where is my Lord, my heart will respond He is here, my father always is.


(1) Deuteronomy 31:6
(2) Psalms 13
(3) Mark 9:43
(4) Deuteronomy 7:6

It's a collision. Constant, and moving. infinite and finite, ebbed and unchanging, unholy and divine.

You are worthy.

Holy.

as opposed to.

I am on a trajectory, something has started in me, that I cannot relieve.
I have seen. How can one forget? why would you want to?
The others say such understandings are simply trivial. Yet I stand in awe, for He Is. I am the finite dust, withering away in my own inherently decaying flesh.
What more can I say.

Lucky me?

I don't understand, I really don't.
We say it all the time. We have no control, no real free choice. Christ has done it all. He loved us - me - so much he died so that I could be saved, Me and you and maybe a few others. Lucky me? Christ found me. I did nothing.
Lord I thank you for your grace and mercy in and through my life, but I fail to understand your will for your people. I can only blame this on my fogged portrayal of who you really are.
Father, I do not wish for heaven nearly as much as I desire to know you. I want to understand, yet all man can say is that you are a living paradox... I don't understand how you could have created me for blind servitude and yet let sin enter the world to keep such things from occurring? Or am I wrong about that too?
I fear more than anything, that some how, some way, we think we figured you out. Who you have chosen, and how; your intent, your desire, the final say. We have placed you into a neat little hand book to being saved. All the while we give you credit for leading the "chosen" ones to our handiwork that "you" have inspired through us.
Forgive me for seeding false intent if that is what this sounds like. I simply want to understand what the will of my Father is. I want to know Him.

We are asked to become like you, and yet are told such things are left a mystery? We have placed "foundational" evidence on your justice. I fear you God, but I also fear misleading.

My understanding of my father, is misconstrued by personal circumstance, apathy, and biological flaws. Is there any chance of finding the truth of who you are? Can I truly know who He Is?
all I can find rest in is that

He knows me.