Monthly Archives: June 2020

all we require

sometimes,
when the world is wrapped in night,
we pause –
breathe deep the comfort of quiet –
think about the could have been –
the should have been;
even contemplate the why not.
 
it’s in those times we find accommodation to the greatest options.
while possibly camouflaged in shades of speculation,
we own autonomy over indecision.
 
sometimes,
when we find ourselves alone,
we pause –
commiserate with our hurt,
hold hands with our pain.
feel justified in wearing our shroud of sorrow.
after all,
no one else could ever understand –
this water of fear much too deep,
much too wide –
for anyone to ever swim across; to survive.
 
sometimes,
wrapped up inside our feelings of reluctance,
we simply cannot see the purpose –
comprehend the reason for our struggle.
and as we grasp at threads of reason much too weak to hold our trembling hands,
we feel the battle lost –
surrender –
become,
undone…
 
sometimes,
we pray…
 
perhaps that is when we truly find our strength –
rather,
realize our potential.
with everything considered necessary – stripped away;
fear and anger,
pain and sorrow,
what we thought mattered and even cherished.
when completely emptied of all we desire –
at that moment to find we’ve been given all we require.
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malady of assume

i will surrender –
allow silence to enter the realm of my consideration.
not that i’ve emptied the vat of thought.
rest assured there is chaos yet to corral –
imaginings to share –
inferences to propose.
in time.
just not tonight.
 
i would suggest,
however,
opinion kept in check.
sometimes more is said with silence than ramblings of un-intent.
perhaps a conversation –
cut short –
left fragments of suppose scattered along the floor of deliberation.
or,
possibly,
attention was not paid in full –
recipient left holding hands full of not quite enough.
 
so eagerly we hand out labels of indifference.
cast stones of unconcern.
yet fail to recognize our own misappropriation of bias –
fall victim to the malady of assume…
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invitations of believe

we speak to the disenchanted.

stand on our soapboxes of pious indignation –

lash out at the arena’s of unconcerned –

wear watercolor hearts on our sleeves.

in front of crowds gathered to deter allegiance –

we throw arrows of solidarity –

our arsenal of antagonism unending.

words of condemnation; we choose.

yet fail to dislodge thumbs of impudence from holes in dams of manufactured religion.

religion.

all inclusive blanket of suppose.

folded up neatly and placed high on shelves of unavailable.

easily out of reach –

out of sight.

we speak –

but never seem to question the acceptance of those that hear.

irrelevant –

consensual commiseration.

in place of conviction –

we exhibit masks of implied.

utter memorized oracles of divine affiliation.

all the while –

completely unaware of the absence of acceptance to our invitations of believe…

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when life becomes less defined… [2 Timothy 3: 1-7 KJV]

and just about now,

while the stars shine and the moon is slightly less than full, we wage wars against ourselves.
in this moment, instead of holding hands, we throw sparks – rekindle flames – ignite with fear the fires of discontent.
what will it accomplish? this war of indifference?
if in the end – when the smoke finally clears – we find all we’ve conquered – is good; all that remains – draped in darkness – sad shroud of victory worn by kings without crowns – left only to reign over the grave of morality.
and so it goes…
 
and just about now,
we boast and brag of conquests made in the name of jurisprudence –
encroach upon the boundaries of right and wrong –
yet fail to comprehend the majesty of benevolence.
 
and just about – now –
while making plans to ostracize God from our concept of creation –
we fail to realize the structure of our once great society is falling down –
thin walls of faith,
collapsing in upon themselves,
weakened – by the senseless acts – inhumanity of man –
 
and just about now –
the reality of our demise is heard –
not in the roar of mighty storms –
but subtle as the exit of day –
more personal than a whisper of consolation,
from the very lips of death…
 
(and now i lay me down to sleep ,
i pray the Lord,
my soul…)
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hourglass of our demise

caught up in the vortex of assume.
we place our hearts on trays of trust –
offer invitation to presentations of our self.
 
with marked deliberation –
we push the everything of all we are onto center stage –
dim the lights –
create atmosphere of intimate accommodation.
and there.
exposed.
wearing only the skin of our re-purposed conviction –
we promenade our is –
recite monologues of our suppose.
there is,
i feel,
no sorrow more defined than diminished expectation.
to strip away the layers of apprehension –
peel off the mask of reluctant –
allow access to the very essence of our was,
in hopes of finding partner on the journey to our will become –
and find,
when naked of all but our indiscretion,
the effort wasted –
could-be not an option…
as the curtain begins to close –
lights of life begin to dim –
we realize the absence of audience.
as one by one the patrons reassigned.
most often to follow adventures we cannot comprehend.
while we remain –
restrained as sand within the hourglass of our own demise.
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