Dear Shulamite

I fear, dear Shulamite,
that I have awakened love
before it so desired.
(Song of Songs 2:7; 3:5; 8:4)

Fall Whispers

While still summertime,
fall whispers through the dawn air,
early echoes of things that were.

A Memory of Childhood

Driving through a memory of childhood,
A symphony of quiet things
And animals,
Children’s voices in the chorus.
The sound of birds and an occasional car passing.

The smell of wind blowing through the cornfields,
A cow’s breath and maybe
Some diesel—
The perfume of rural life.

The green earth and blue sky
Wide and yawning
before me to see
moving along the strip of gray country road
twisting and calling as if I am part of it,
part of me, somewhere absorbed into the rocks and trees.

The ageless child, full of wonder,
I can feel myself
simultaneously standing still and
Traveling into the distance

Untitled

Well, you said you were trying to push me away.
I guess you have succeeded.
I hope you feel better now,
having tossed me so aloofly aside.

Pick Your Poison

She says she likes me,
but she laces her compliments with shots at my character
sweet and sour mix
shaken with bitters,
And you drink her poison
Slowly
Until you believe it,
Drunk on the cheap design
You stumble over our friendship
Into the dark alley of derision.

Pictures of me

These are random pictures of me throughout the trip: at the Continental Divide, driving and chewing gum, swinging at the rest stop, with my family in Arizona (Great Aunt Lois--Grandma's sister, Aunt Laura, and Miranda), at the beach, a thumbnail view (literally--it's a picture of my thumb) holding a tiny ice cream cone, me with Elmo (he grabbed me and asked for a picture--who knew Elmos was so forward...) and taking a star picture in L.A., on a desert mountain (in San Bernardino).

Bare Feet and Blue Skies

Back from my trip now, so many things to behold and experience. My imagination sparked like the burning, desert sun, inspired by the things I smell, hear, touch, taste, and see. I did not bring any possessions back with me, only pictures and memories. It is these pictures and words that are my souvenirs, the vessels of my memories…

In these poems, "You" refers to at least one (if not all three) of The Holy Trinity, while "you" could be a number of people...

Bare Feet and Blue Skies
Across the miles we relay the driving,
the steering wheel our baton.
We sing and laugh, as if taunting the rising temperatures just outside the window.

We are on an adventure.
We are racing the wind.
We trace the outline of the map with the wheels of the car.

The wind almost wins as it grasps for our directions.
I catch them before it can get a good grip.
Rolling over the miles, crossing state lines.
Bare feet and blue skies,
we are explorers,
we are free.
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Crossing Miles
Alone tonight I cross these miles,
remembering your hands were once my compass.
Lost in the wide yawn of this salty earth,
the land knows no boundaries of its own.
I wonder if this is my Manifest Destiny,
the Westward Expansion of my soul.
*****************************
Charlotte’s Web
A spider crawls along the windshield.
I want to be someone’s Charlotte.
Is there a Wilbur out there?
*****************************
Time Zones
We did get an extra hour today,
3 by the time our trip is through.
Did we use them wisely?
*****************************
No Guarantees
There are no guarantees in life.
No guarantees of forever,
no guarantees that the one you love will love you back.

There is only One—
and all the promises in Him are yes
and amen.
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The Deceit of Clouds
Clouds can be deceiving.
White billows like cotton candy or cotton balls.
Like feathery down pillows or the batting of a quilt.
Whipped cream or marshmallows.
Something light, but with substance.
Floating along, they release or withhold their rain and wind and hail
sometimes to our relief other times our destruction.
They even cast shadows as though they have body,
but were I to step on one,
I would fall right through
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Let’s
Let’s not talk about the weather.

Let’s not be polite today.

Let’s not use manners in place of true consideration.

Let’s not drown in superficial niceties.

I do not think my soul can handle another day in the box of society.

Let’s talk about things that matter (if we can find words for them,

and if we can’t, let’s just sit here

listening

for the wordless things that are said between our souls).

Let’s spend time learning each other’s spirit.

Let’s take time to breathe this life in.

Let’s make an honest attempt at being real.
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Break My Bones
I am a person with a heart you know,
sticks and stones may break my bones,
your words have always hurt me.
*****************************************************************
Happy Noises
My dog makes noises like he’s talking.
I have grown so accustomed to it, that I know what he’s saying.
I especially like the happy noises.
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Hard To Sleep Tango
Lying awake again,
my brain and heart at their dance—
two lovers in a tango—
my brain will sometimes lead and my heart,
she moves in a different direction entirely.

So, in hot pursuit,
my brain, he will follow her.
Back and forth it goes,
one storming off in a passionate fury,
the other chasing after,
running, chasing, fleeing, pursuing
until they collide

both entangled, moving
in the same direction.

All the tenderness of grace
and fierceness of fury.
They cannot be still yet tonight…
Intensely engaged,
they move,
igniting one another
until exhausted and satisfied
they begin a waltz to a lullaby and rest in each other’s arms.