he makes us
makes us relent
bleed out
our own self
yearn for relief
our heart stops
hurting
never
from the nearness
this war
of spirit we are
ever
wanting
holding to death
unaware
we think we are done
when the war of dying
has just begun

I am not going to dwell on where I don’t fit in. And I am not going to feel sorry that I can not have who or what I would like to have. I am going to look at what people are, and what they are to me now. What they can be now. And I want to be happy with that. Not feeling sorry for myself, but instead feeling how very lucky I am to have people in my life at all.

i don’t own
a home
or steeple
and i depend
on the friend
in people
i am barely here
and sometimes there
like a ghost
slipping through a keyhole

❖

the sky was falling,
but it still looked blue.
the flower stood tall and pink.

what proof do i have?
it’s what i saw.

what i wanted to see.
the petals.
the miracle moment.

seeing

is not believing.
faith is not seeing.

love
is not enough
on its own.

✜