Was the veil clipped from your face?

Boiling stars,

the purple, charcoal grey, flamed blue

fall into your eyes?

The self,


I am Someone,

see me go!

While those left behind

stare in bafflement.

Border Saint

Slog along the borders,

Don’t enter all the fight;

call yourself a neutral,

give God a little slight.

Slog along with rhythms, singing

with your chains;

the ones that keep you moving-

others are to blame!

Come, He’s gently calling

for you to turn around.

His weight is so much lighter,

your lips will have a song.

Please don’t resist your Savior,

He loves you all the way;

your labors through the blackened light

will slowly fall away.


Duller sheen than

glittery veneers.

Softly rise,


an opal

in the hollow of a collarbone.

High collar torn away

to reveal it’s glory;

not necessary to be onyx.

Sometimes hidden heartbeats

stay hidden.

He’s Calling

Let out your last breath,

commitment heart rending;

love to your final exhaling.

Blending in air elements-



He rose again,

reached for us;

His wounds heal.

Firm, gentle touch

to the shoulder

our backs turned

coaxed to turn around;

we wouldn’t.

Warm touch of your compassion

in scars;

hard palms make my wounded


recoil and weep.

permanent change



passion –

won’t carry you far.

Long range view,


no better than a star.

The steps are



(line upon line,

precept upon precept,

precept upon precept

here a little, and there a little.)

the decision you have now;

holding His hand,

moving up

shows to whom

you bow.