Don’t feed on tears, little one,

don’t feed on tears.

Ignore the call of ash and dust,

and overwhelming fears.

Shush, quiet when the dark

comes, and stifling heavy rain,

Don’t let it cloak and bind you,

with bitterness and pain.

Hush my child, reach for Jesus,

listen to His call,

and His blessing is upon your life

when you feebly call.




Inadequate Words

Letters fall,

snowflake and sound;

I gather, they slip

onto clay ground;

try to gather them up

then they melt,

now substance and pearl

can’t be found.

Open Heart

Lay aside my royal garment,

it tattered and tore;

linen, unprotected from varment

hands cup heart, pour

Poison and pain drip, drip

to the red soil below-

no pretense of glory,

Just offer lethal store.

Peace has it’s say,

now room for faith

spirit free and solid,

no longer sinking wraith.

Astray Surrender

Remove the breastplate,

dull from neglected upkeep;

clatters on concrete.

Pop! remove helmet,

skull open, vulnerable-

sun, shadow fall there.

Eyes avoid the belt,

fingertips grip underneath,

unfasten buckle.

Kick off metal shoes,

bare feet are vulnerable,

and stones are so sharp.

Misplaced shield can’t block

the metal coils you now

flaming arrows sear.

Sword, muttered prayer

rusty and dull from disuse

pray block enemy.


Desire to wring every




of the tortured soul-

(without the torture, of course.)

God’s gifts

best broken and poured out

from a life of troubles.

Suffering Servant

From joyous place

of decrees and diadems,

worship, sovereignty,

limitless authority

stripped down to peasant garb

cloaked in voluntary loss

crowned with suffering.


Though anger may be thrown at you,

and your senses cry defeat

engage your love in battle,

it’s fruit later you reap.

Sing your songs when you are down,

fight amongst your grief and tears

give a smile, not a frown,

seed will grow throughout the years.


Breath, Green

Your breath, your breeze,

a creek and twine;

with buried tendons,

branches wind.

Roots dig in deep,

sun drapes gold cape;

hills soft or steep,

flies webs escape.

‘Til evening caps

pearl-lit stars find-

me on sharp grass

lost sense of time.