poem

i long to be the – oh –
the – wow –
exhilarating gasp of – awe,
in an otherwise quiet room!
 
to be that –
suspect,
that –
even remotely – considered.
 
to be –
consumed –
as breath –
entering in –
and back out again.
unassuming,
yet essential –
inasmuch as believe,
to dream…
 
you are that –
Deity –
on which i hang
(effortlessly)
my hope.
 
demagogue to champion compassion.
and i –
your willing martyr!

we,  (sometimes)

 

we sometimes, stand alone.

unable to offer our heart,

much less our hands.

 

we sometimes feel,

removed from companion to necessary –

transparent – just outside the fringe of need.

 

we sometimes,

merely – exist.

 

is it then,

when stumbling over could have been,

we commiserate with cant?

embrace unable?

isolate our selves from can?

 

if that be the case –

if choosing failure as punctuation to the statement of our us,

what then?

surely the world will not stop turning.

regardless the light-less dark of the blackest night,

the sun will rise again.

we were not born into a world of supposition.

our fate,

never decided by rolling dice or mediums reading palms.

 

we sometimes find accommodation with our pain –

begin to understand the blessing of life in its absence.

and once we realize the value of letting go,

the closer we find ourselves being held…

 

tonight i shared treasured conversation with angels – without wings.

or at least ones i could not see.

tonight i offered words of consolation.

opened doors of compassion.

sat in silent gardens of prayer for intercession –

realized the most important gift i could ever receive,

was already mine.

comfort –

peace undefined –

grace i could never afford,

offered from the God of all creation –

 

tonight i lost baggage of indecision –

walked out of my past –

one foot in front of the other,

singing in my heart sweet song of hallelujah –

unafraid of my journey’s ending,

aware each breath could be –

my last…