You remind me
of things I have never seen,
places I have never been.
And it is glorious.

One Day


I just want to see your face
when every trap you’ve set fails
and I stand before you free.



How long can you keep this up?
Give it a rest,
settle down.
Take a breath, take a break.
Keep pace with the clouds.
Lay down this weight,
you are not Atlas.
I know you are weary.
You don’t have to fight it,
you don’t have to fight alone.
Close your eyes.
Rest your mind.
Let me try.

Matthew Twenty-Seven


We were given what we were asking for
but not what we deserved.
The verbs used to describe are
shocking and reflective of just how desperate we can be.
Willing to cheer and applaud
and then jeer like a fraud,
switching sides like a sports game at halftime.
Unsure of what direction we ever wanted to go in.
Yet it was known, so
the road was walked alone
because we were never prepared
or knew how to get there;
couldn’t complete the task so it was passed
into the hands of the one who could bear the marks.

Lest we forget,
the debt amassed
the cheque remaining
the mess created.
There is not enough water to wash
my hands of this.
The blood is too great.

But the blood is that great,
reveals a new fate,
applied to the same ones who would cry crucify,
the ones who deny.

Somewhere, I stand amongst them,
that when I thought I knew better
He knew best.