designs hands love to rub—but one of the smaller ones
nested inside, hidden away, sheltered by those
more able to handle the handling:
I am more compact, take up
less room, able
to hold my breath
longer
a virtue, perhaps, in other lands.
This poem appears in my latest book of poems called Roses in Winter and has nothing to do with the current political situation, only the interior battle we all wage to be heard and seen in life-giving ways, although perhaps this kernel is not unrelated to larger conflicts that cost real lives, although I am loathe to comment.
Whatever language or idiom we speak, through our words or actions, our work or our pain, we share a desire to be heard, decoded, employed on a meaningful level.
1,000X better to be yourself; which often requires a measure of solitude, to learn how to be who we are, when we’re alone and more often than not face-to-face with God. This is when and where we find the courage to respond to people whose opinions might have told us we were something other than the Beloved. This poem appears in my latest book of poetry – Roses in Winter.
it not only persists, but is like gods (drunk and sober)
in a forest felling trees (young and old)
too close to home, to children, to the stuff
of our dreams, when there’s nowhere
we’d rather be
than somewhere this word
was never uttered.
This poem appears in my new book Roses in Winter. It’s meant to speak to pain points that the rest of our lives often try and smooth over. But really, for most people who are married, this is where we live. In the good and loving centre of our relationship, OR on the fringes of something that has unraveled, fallen apart, cost us everything.
That marriage takes work is a truism. That its fail-point, divorce, is a multi-billion dollar industry is not worth mentioning. But in here somewhere is the incredible, underlying truth that marriage is meant to shelter us. To make our dreams come true. To bless the world and people around us. To comfort us and bring us hope.
In other words, it’s a powerful, unchanged sacramental vow between a man and woman to stick it out. To trust that tomorrow is a new day. That God’s mercies are available to us; that change is real. Here’s to that!
Of course, any word on this tender topic lends itself to a series of books and sermons and greeting cards. But! The point is, that unless safety is an issue, then be encouraged: no one gets married to get divorced. The question becomes: why did you get married? And what might it take to heal and grow from where you are now: married or (un)married?
a poem about the need for a push when we get stuck, feel like we’re grinding our wheels, giving our all but going nowhere; often it’s impossible to see our way out without a little help from the Lord or a friend, someone who is FOR US and who will truly 100% rejoice in our MOVING FORWARD
