It will not stop a war now, but I’m gonna love my kid I’ll tell her every day that she’s got the things we need So she’ll believe the truest thing I know If I have any say (That power flexes big and tall, but hope and beauty strike it) It will not jam the guns up, but I’m gonna kiss my man Let our limbs wrap all around for to do what arms are made Worship the Imago Dei, not burst it into shrapnel If I have any sway We’ll hold each other when we’re scared and make ourselves more whole It will not soothe a leader’s greed, but…
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Shaky Resurrection
A poem.
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Reconstruction
I am going home, you said, I relish every word you left, bereft Of every one you didn’t yet And every one I didn’t coax out of you when I could. Those are the ones that might be wood. But it’s only straw instead. Home is it? and you insist, But when your heart stopped cold I missed The home at the part where your last breathe kissed This end of eternal sowing, sighed Into the harvest of your life There is not room for this. Where is home without you here It may sounds trite, but feels too clear To rise above cliches and fear That what fell down…
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Winter’s Song
Winter comes in quiet, stage left, light focused elsewhere, and waits. She knows her line is coming, her nerves tumble around inside her She is a subtle addition to a lovely scene of oranges and browns and dark green As the players fall back after Autumn’s brilliant number, she moves on shaky feet When she steps into the spotlight everyone gasps – she is stunning Her homemade gown flings sequins in an orb around her as she finds her mark Standing now on solid feet, knees bent so she won’t faint, she listens for her cue Which is up to her: a break in silence whenever she senses we are…
