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.

You are His

A chafing, belly cry-

heart’s prayer, and a song;

held in God’s hand,

this torrent is strong.

Word smashes like hammer

to dust, scattered fine-

grant water, new answer,

He says “you are mine”.

Stand, hold on

you are in His palm;

dusk until dawn,

your strength, your calm.


Can’t coax pearl petals from shoot or stem,

or cast blueprints for bees hum;

Can’t speak tender words to guide a creek,

or lay out path of sun.

My feeble pen scratches, rude and splotched,

tapping like metronome time;

function as a darkened mirror

while words dance their rhyme.


Chosen, in His hands lifted,

no random die is cast;

it goes from grace to grace

from the first to the last.

Regardless of Satan or

man’s epic fails,

God’s provision and purpose

forever prevails.