when my eyes fell silent


brushed in place, clothed a hue of fire

a world away

all of its own

autonomy awaits discovery - an invitation to explore

the moment, the day slows just so,

man's hour forlorn

as knowledge fades with light

man crashing on another age's shore.


the sky answers reverberating maybe the most ancient profundity of all: silence, of all around and more.


silently the sky witnesses the madmen who descend upon mortals like mice, social units they are,

entombed as cultural shadows scurrying around for enamored permanence.


c'est la vie, mon cheri,

an Amen of the truest

spied in the sky over the moon evidences in a child's lullaby and a whispered fairytale, too. 


and we rush into the noise again

forgetting who we are -  

statues formed too soon,  misshapen;

lost altogther in the sound.  

Same-sex Marriage and What My Heart Needs to Remember About Love

Gazing at the world only at one particular angle is quite troublesome for many reasons, but of most concern, there lies damaging trouble in our attempts to press the world into our expectations. When we expect the world – more specifically for the Christian – when we expect those different from us to believe what we believe and place value in our beliefs, we impose upon others, not love, but an instructive value system incongruent to theirs. And for that matter, I don’t believe this was Jesus’ intent.

When we place positions before people, we concede to being members of an organization rather than collected pieces of a Whole scandalously knitted together, embedded in eternity by the only One who could, who would, without ever fully knowing why except His owned desire. And when we guard our banalities more than the faith we profess, we pull faith out of the air to exist in our ordinariness. For what is faith in the absence of love, but unremarkable behavior ordinary to and at home within the walls of our selves? After all faith will one day fade, as will the beliefs associated with it, but not love. Love transcends. Love is the language which bridges our worlds and leads us home. Love bled an announcement to all who would hear, “you can come.”

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38 words of gratitude.

to all behind, now deep beneath the surface

I am, due to you, now dead in your soil

birthed blooms despite night’s dark

and the lies whispered in difficulty

languaged solace

yet somehow these days align in Beauty



Another year into life steeped in my fair share of darkened valleys and blind curves, as well as joyous heights when celebration rises without thought or prompt. For all of it, each and every day, I am thankful, as they are gifts given in breaths uninterruptedly pulled in, heartbeats pulsing life strong through my aging veins and eyes that see God’s goodness dancing all around.

I am here right where I am and should be. That is a miracle.

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