Single phrase, single word-
begets raw, throbbing anger-
Is it sands in the wounds,
is it fear of danger?
Where mind and emotion meet
in the center stage of conviction-
rationalist, passionate, or someone
on a mission?


Motive Expert

You declare an x-ray accomplishment,
claim it’s not smoke and mirrors-
Say you can see when I’m moved by my anger,
by selfishness or by my fears.
You ask few questions; select excerpts from
former quotes,
you say you can see my bigotry, and when my heart
first broke.
Tell me, did you make an incision,
through those motives that I “tried to hide”-
open my beating heart, read ventricles like tea leaves
Pinned back and laid bare, did my fatty heart tell the story,
and the light in you see in its glory?

(Therefore judge nothing before the appointed time; wait until the Lord comes. He will bring to light what is hidden in darkness and will expose the motives of the heart. At that time each will receive their praise from God.)


Lighthouse tries to speak
to uncertain ships,
compass indecipherable,
hearts hollow-
Somehow tentatively offered kindnesses
lift a little,
a glimpse, a whisper.
Ears strain, labors intensive
chase the next treasure
with an Answer somehow elusive.

Weighted, musty blanket,
desolate heart unwilling to
though a vague veneer
twinkles briefly in the mind-
attempt to movement, brittle
loyalties trying to take all the weight.
Somewhere in my dim reasonings,
call out to God in a whisper-
though the despairing cover remains
over my vision,
the weight is lighter.

Stand next to the precipice,
teeter unsteadily-
one cries out to the other,
across the rift-
The other can’t hear,
shouts back in anger, because
they leaned forward to hear, and
almost fell in.