The Loudest Silence

Dear Church,

Yours is the loudest silence
And the one that hurts the most
For I call you brother and sister
And my call returns a ghost
You do not answer
And I am hard-pressed to find you
In this, my dark-skinned hour

“Let us pray” you might say
And “Only the gospel can save”
But surely Our Father asks more
Has he not asked us to speak for the poor?
And stand for the weak?
To care for the widow,
And defend those who cannot speak? 

I have watched you weep for the child with cancer
And speak for her mother who is crying for answers
So why are you silent while I face this violence?
And why won't your heart break when my life is at stake?
Are you so convinced that all we can do is wait?

Wait.
Wait for the right time,
For the end of elections, after voters have made their selections
Lest anyone say that you swayed political predilections

Wait.
Wait for the best time,
When more universal troubles have been resolved
And less puzzling puzzles have been solved
Or by some Kumbaya magic, we organically evolve

Wait.
Wait for the End of Time,
When the Lord returns and He builds new earth,
And my bruises and burns will no longer hurt 

I have waited, Church
I have waited and I have been hurt
I have waited for more than prayers and empty words

I have prayed
And I have prayed
And
I
Have
Prayed

I am convinced that the Lord's answer was more than
“Wait” or even “just pray”
I am sure I heard Him say
Confess
Repent
Learn
Seek
Do good
Correct
Defend
Speak

And yet...
You remain silent

Your silence says to me that you do not care enough to hear my cry
Or weep with me, or stand for me and do something

Your silence says to me that you are either in denial,
Or quite alright with the way things are
That maybe it’s okay if my back and spirit break,
If that means that you can stay in the comfort of your place

Your silence says to me that you are unwilling to love me, your neighbor as yourself
And when this going gets tough and I cry out for your help
Your Bible is no more than a book on your shelf
How else can you ignore these cries and justify yourself

Your silence says to me that if I am here today and gone tomorrow
You will think nothing of it, and waste not your sorrow

Tell me church, is this what you intended?
Is your silence meant to convey this message?
If so, your faith seems disavowed
If not, then I would ask what now?

The Storm and The Creator

Did you ever see lightning dance across the sky
Painting tiger stripes on cloudy canvas

Did you ever hear thunder echo out above the trees
Beating and repeating like sounds of celebration

Did you ever taste fresh rain dripping from the clouds
Subtle-sweet like little drops of childhood memory

Did you ever smell the new-cleaned grass during  a storm
Filling up your lungs like pleasant joy and oxygen

Did you ever feel rain pitter-patter on your skin,
Soft and wet like baby kisses, little stamps of grace

Did you ever stop to marvel at the storm
How great and beautiful, an orchestrated show
This pretty, stunning thing could captivate and kill you
And yet you rest unharmed and feeling very much alive
Watching the storm go by

With even a small measure of presence of mind
One must acknowledge the magnificence of this design
And take pause to wonder at the wonder of its creator

What more evidence do we need
What greater display could say of Him
“How great thou art”?

In the Beginning

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.
And so it was established that beginnings
Are a time and space for creativity.

Where thoughts are nights and days,
Governed by minds, like moons
Whimsies like stars,
And hearts like suns.
Words are swelling seas
And each message living in them
Is a creature of water or sky.
Every idea that turns into action
Is a beast roaming the land.

Since God has made man in His image,
We share His inclination to create,
And in these ways, He has made men makers.

So then, in this beginning,
What shall we make?

Music? Art?
Poems? Praise?
Promises? Peace?
Disciples? Change?

Let us make lovely manifestations
Of good and perfect things from above.

Begin

Sweet girl, you are not Goldilocks,
And things may never be just right.
Just as surely as you are not Cinderella, 
You cannot stop the coming of midnight.
No, you're not Alice, and no, it’s not teatime, 
So release the breath you've been holding,
And come away from that place where you've stood frozen.
All that hesitation that you hold, let it go.
You can do it in just a single step:
Begin.

Beginnings

I could spend my whole life chasing the end,
For few things are more alluring than happily ever after,
And no story has ever begun that way.

Middles are messy - the heart always is,
But I understand the middle’s importance.
Still, I have found that enticing thing
that glitters about the beginning.

It draws me in closer and closer.
I want to write it, read it, live it
Over and over and over.

I cannot name it in a word, so I will use a few.
There is great hope and excitement
In the start of something new.
Nothing has proven impossible yet,
And all you could lose has yet to be lost.
All that could be lies ahead of you still,
Like a wide, cheerful yellow brick road.
And you relish the thought of where it might go.

A beginning is met with your second-wind,
The one you didn’t know you had in you.
It holds something like redemption.
Dreams that you thought had expired are renewed.
Up from the outset, there’s a breathtaking view.

A beginning lays at your feet like fresh-fallen snow,
Soft and pure, and delightfully untouched.
You can make just about anything of a beginning.
So come now, let us bask in its brilliant glow
And make something marvelous of all the possibilities.
Let’s embrace this beautiful part of the story,
For before you know it, the beginning will end.

Black Porcelain

I am black porcelain
A vaguely smiling doll
With much alive, dark brown eyes,
Endless pools of sorrow

I am made for sitting pretty
Not to move, not to speak
Here for you, not for me

How lovely am I,
Speaking words that you gave me?
How lovely am I,
Saying things that you like?

How lovely am I,
Moving as you would have me to,
Going where you would take me?

On the other side of life-like blinking eyes
I wish for you to see perfection

But, it’s too late
One wrong move too many
Left me broken, so broken
Not all I am cracked up to be

Photograph

I look at this old photo and I wonder
What did the camera capture
A clear shot of a hazy memory?
A distorted image of a clear recollection?

Does my smile reach my eyes?
Does it tell the truth,
Or does it tell a lie?

And what of the people at my side?
Is our closeness real or a delusion?
Is our wholeness true or an illusion?
And whatever they were, are they still?

I Used to Sing

When I was a little girl
I used to sing so freely
I’d send out notes like butterflies
Stored up in infinite supply
So unafraid to let them go
And land wherever they might

I never wondered if they fluttered just so
Or if their wings were sufficiently bright and beautiful
I would not think of anyone who might oppose their flight
I’d only lift my voice and send them up into the sky

Oh how I used to dance and sing
Without regard for who might see
I could not keep my song inside
And so I let it out

Out above the tall, tall trees
Out below the deep blue sea
Out beyond the clouds, and sky
And all the shining stars

But, that was far back in the past
For ignorant bliss, it rarely lasts
I used to sing so freely,
Before I learned what it meant to be crushed

Crushed by the weight of every trouble that I cannot change
Crushed for every broken heart that only seems to remember pain
Crushed in my spirit every time that I do not succeed
Crushed underfoot of those who gladly walk all over me

Crushed under an avalanche of cold shoulders like snow
Crushed in my soul with every unfounded utterance of “no”
Crushed for every dream that’s died since I was a child
Crushed by all the sadness that so permeates this broken world

But you Oh Lord, are loving and mighty
There is nothing that cannot be healed in your hands
You, Oh Lord, with only a word
Can make what was crushed become whole again
You, Oh Lord, with only a breath
Can breathe life into what was dead

So I am asking you, oh Lord,
To resurrect my butterflies, and to restore my song
To lift my head and free my soul
To sing even more freely than I did before
Let every note rise on wings of joy
Colored by love and hallelujahs
Lifted high by winds of gratitude and praise
Let my feet dance to the song for all of my days

Storm & Flame

I am burning from the inside out
Set ablaze by thunder and lightning
That I shut up in my bones

Thunder - words I do not say
Lightning - pain I keep contained
Inside of me endless rain

Rare a ray of sun

Over and over again
I silence that white-hot heat
That dares my lips to part
And roar with dragon’s flame

I swallow it, let it sear my bones 
And scorch my soul
And fill my lungs like smoke
Quietly I burn and choke

Tears that do not fall make it hard to see
Dark and smokey clouds make it hard to breathe
As I start to fade my last words will be
Lord, don’t let this storm and flame be the end of me

The Only Girl I Ever Called Bae

I call one sister A, and the other one K
But there's only one girl that I ever called Bae
No love in that mystery romantic way
Just the love between friends,
Like the hours between days

Ode To My Room

Here lies the silent witness of my true self
With open arms and without judgment you welcome me
You are a sight for sore eyes and sore bones at the end of a wearisome day
And when my weary soul prays it is in your sanctuary that the echo returns
You offer me a place to rest and to do whatever my heart desires while I am awake
You never flinch when the notes that you hear are less than pleasant or incorrect
You do not judge all the things I do that I would only dare to do in front of you
You have met my family and my dearest friends and some odd strangers too
You have seen every shade of me and all the colors that I bring to you
Do you care for the hues inside - the blues and pinks and blacks and whites?
Are the flowers and the patterns and the solids too strange a menagerie?
And what of the occasional mess?
Tell me, what is it like to hold so many secrets?
Do your four walls talk amongst themselves in my absence?

Cup of Sadness

Pour me a cup of sadness
Dignified like a small-town Sherriff brandishing his gun
Sweet like a southern belle when her courtship has begun

Pour me a cup of sadness
Big and bold as country-state of Texas threatenin’ succession
Rich as daddy’s little girl come into great-granddaddy’s fortune

Pour me a cup of sadness
Dark as southern country night if not for bright star lights
Spicy like fresh jalapeno seeds in just a single bite

Pour me a cup of sadness
Smokey like the thing that remains long after you put out the fire
Harsh like stormin’ prairie wind and painful like barbed wire

Maranatha

Maranatha, Maranatha
No one screams in the streets
Maranatha, Maranatha
I should breathe with each heartbeat

But Lord I am unready
To leave this world behind
I waiver here, unsteady
And reaching for more time

Maranatha, Maranatha
Once rang out in song so sweet
Maranatha, Maranatha
I should breathe with each heartbeat

But Lord I am unwilling
To give up what’s ahead
These stories of fulfilling
I have written in my head

Maranatha, Maranatha
Shouts of “Lord come quickly please!”
Maranatha, Maranatha
I should breathe with each heartbeat

But Lord I am unfaithful
Not clinging to you now
Hung up on a world so hateful
They pierced Your sacred brow

Maranatha, Maranatha
Lord won’t you make this my plea
Maranatha, Maranatha
Let me breathe with each heartbeat

Dear Starbucks

Dear Starbucks
Thank you for spiking my coffee with an unnatural bliss
That’s got me strung up on each cup like a desperate addict

Thank you for whipped cream and caramel
And just enough sugar to send me to hell

Thank you for an all-inclusive pass
To the once-exclusive hipster class

Thank you for taking all the dollars I paid
And giving me mermaid after mermaid

Dear Starbucks
Thank you for giving consumerism its very own rich taste

Keys

Three for the school
One for all classrooms
One for the safe
One for the room with computers and games

Three for the house
One for the old lock
One for new
One for the back door that’s been painted blue

Three for where I stay
One for the mailbox
One for my room
One for my sweet ride that used to go zoom

Everything but fruit

Lassi
Sorbet
Fruit Chew
Mango, I love everything but you

Creamsicle
Sherbert
Fresh-squeezed juice
Orange, I love everything but you

Milkshake
Creampie
Fruit Chew
Banana, I love everything but you

Lattice Pie
Turnover
100% pure juice
Apple, I love everything but you

Ice Cream
Cheesecake
Fruit Chew
Strawberry, I love everything but you

Hot tea
Frosting
Not-from-concentrate juice
Passion fruit, I love everything but you

Dr. Pepper
Diet Coke
Fruit Chew
Cherry, I love everything but you

Bubble tea
Chutney
Real tropical juice
Papaya, I love everything but you

Filled donut
Homemade jam
Fruit Chew
Raspberry, I love everything but you

A Date

Scribbled sloppily on a scrawny scrap of loose-leaf
Name, number, new place, nerd has written “call me”

Nice and neatly noted in the margin of her notebook
Dave, his digits, Do-Si-Do, a memo to call after she cooks

Dancing dumbfounded, delighted dear Dave
Ginger just made his jumbled June day

Jumpin’ Jasmine or Juniper Breeze mist
Which scent was sweeter in case she got kissed? 

Bright-blue beat-up old truck pulls up
Out she flies in floral print and fedora

Rockin’ country radio plays
And sets a good start for a date