Out
of the Box
They sit in their pews—
yet do not see you.
They take in communion—
but do not your presence taste.
I lay my forehead to the floor,
and weep.
Back to top
Silence Take Me
Silence take me into the voice,
into the breath of words
gliding in the darkness,
massaging my soul turned to hear.
Silence take me under the only hand,
under the only embrace of the one
who took their time with me to
touch.
The single touch I felt this day.
Silence take me into the connection,
often spoken of but not fully realized,
where no voice and no touch roll
like the days overlooked for
not having known what is missed.
An ache better left unknown,
unsaid, and untouched.
So silence take me.
Back to top
Walking Shoes
Sitting on the mountain’s edge,
watching the light leave it’s
birth
as the shadows steal over my
skin in waves.
I see in my mind the things to
come—
the black water, the fear of
drowning,
the tides rushing over my head.
I see the rock laden paths,
the upward climb, jagged and
cold,
the view of forgotten forever
stretching out in the damp; sick
and endless.
But I have gone this way before,
the dark is not a stranger to
me.
I know this nightmare well.
So I stare right back into the
dark,
into the blackness of the void,
I set my face, lift my head,
and put on my walking shoes.
Back to top
Empty Hands
Jesus said those who have been
forgiven much, love much.
I say also those who have
lost much, give much.
For it is they who know
the hollow sound of loss,
the ones who remember how
it feels to have empty hands
and they who have realized
empty hands are best.
It is not for them to
keep what they have been given,
but they pass it on,
knowing life can only
be lived when shared,
blessings can only be savored
when others are also wrapped
into the blessing.
Do not hinder them or make
them keep what is held
out in their hands.
It has no value to them,
it holds no sway when others
are in need of what they can
give.
Those with empty hands delight
in having something to share.
Then, after your own dark night
when you too learn
the value or empty hands,
you will know how to pass the
blessings on,
held out in empty hands of your
own.
Back to top
Midnight Prayer
God I see you in your chair
as if through a misty fog.
My heart longs to return,
to feel your presence beside me.
I cannot go much further on my own,
this I know, and I can hear
your voice letting me know
I can come to you any time,
I can return from whence I came.
Sometimes I do, I come
in my imaginings and I
remember. I remember
you, and us, and I cry.
I want to go home.
The other night I did go home.
I came home to you and you
sat there holding my hand
while I laid there in pain.
You let me be dead to myself
and I found you, you were beside me.
Soon, I sense, I will fall to the ground
and again you will come
and lift me up off the floor
into your gentle arms,
and though I know there will be
more pain than I’ve yet experienced,
you will be there; I know you’ll be there
and it will be more real to me,
truer and deeper than anything
that ever can be seen, felt, or touched.
And there I won’t have to smile
when I don’t mean it
and I won’t have to swallow
my pain and not show it—
but I can be me—
and you’ll understand.
I won’t have to explain to you
my age or the ages inside
because you already know.
You won’t see me as less than I am.
I won’t have to tell you I have
something good to give.
But because they do, because they don’t,
I need to hear it from you
because I am weary of telling it to myself.
I am done defending myself,
done with trying to get people
to take me seriously
and I have no more energy
left to give to this,
no image I care to project.
I simply want to be accepted as me.
So when I do fall,
when I do come to the edge of myself,
God, lay down around me
your protection, you gentle presence.
Place me in between those cool sheets
with water and a cloth to cool my head.
Read me stories, sing me your songs
as I lay there looking at you,
wondering what is going to come of this,
when I am awake enough to wonder at all.
I can already hear you softly humming,
I can feel the heaviness
washing down my body
and your hand lifting my head to hold me.
I don’t know how we came
to this place again,
or why we always circle back.
I don’t know why this seems
to be our continual place of prayer,
our holy sanctuary within you
and in the heart of me.
But I am here, I am waiting.
You are here, you are waiting.
I will wake up and find myself there,
that great darkness,
that great void and emptiness
I can fill with silent tears.
It’s inside of me and all around you.
Soon the lamp will be taken away,
my eyes will no longer see
as I’m taken over by the shadows.
Yet in this darkness,
in this blackness of death to self,
I will embrace it, I will hold it close
even while it takes me apart.
Because I know you will have me in your hand
to put me back together.
I know you will be there
to help me walk again.
I know you will be there, everywhere,
everyday, so pick me up, carry me home,
and make prayer real once again.
Back to top
Morning Snow
Branches bathed in purity
reverently resting in awe of your
reign.
Below, daffodils bowed in holy white
vestments
before your sacred throne.
Quietly, these gentle blessings fall to the
ground—
living icons walking us into
prayer.
You lovingly reveal the world in silent glory
and my heart kneels down before
your grace.
Back to top
To Whom It May Concern
To whom it may concern,
upon this eve I pray,
whomever on God's earth you be,
wherever your head you lay.
I hold this bracelet in my hands
the one my hands have made,
silver wire wound round tight,
red and blue in braid.
It may be such a simple thing,
a trinket for you to wear,
but to me it symbolizes more than that,
it comes with heartfelt prayer.
I want you to understand
the hope I have for you:
that you will take the ordinary
to create something beautiful and new.
I want you to see past the wire
into the jewel within,
to see how things become united,
of colored cord and tin.
We are all connected,
we are truly one,
We are not so different
neath’ the African sun.
So when you see what I have made,
take time to think of me,
I will be here praying for you
as I create on bended knee.
Back to top
Dance and Sing
I will dance on the streets that are golden.
I will dance on the streets that are free.
I will dance on the streets that holds lives
fully lived,
And I’ll dance forever with thee.
I will sing the songs of tomorrow.
I will sing the music today.
I will sing the words that you wrote in our
hearts,
And I’ll sing the words that you gave.
And our lives will be filled with your
treasure,
With things the eyes cannot see.
And when we dance and sing in your beauty,
We’ll be dancing and singing with thee.
Back to top
