Still Searching

In knowing him
My heart is satisfied
My soul is justified
There is nothing more I need
And still I’m searching for something
If I really knew him
I would know peace
Would know content
But all I see of him
is a blurry silhouette

Every glimpse I’ve had of him
stirs my heart
But glimpses aren’t enough
to sustain deep, abiding love
I need to stare, to watch,
to study long and hard
this one whose beauty
captivates and mesmerizes
if only looked at truly

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NPM: Live Gloriously

I’ve heard that life can be more
And that once you’ve tasted
Once you’ve seen
It’s unforgettable
I don’t think I have that kind of life
A life that is like the smoldering carnelian sun
Setting over the Serengeti
I look up and instead of majestic skies
I see stoplights and electric wires
And fluorescent signs promoting “The Whopper”
I dream of that other life
The one that moves your primal soul
And brings tears to your awe-widened eyes
But I don’t know how to get there
How to live gloriously
So I just keep asking
Hands open and empty
Waiting to receive

NPWM Day 6: The Planet’s Sun

The sun cannot feel its own heat

It does not know why

the planets recoil from it

and spin further and further away

Aeon by aeon, an expanding galaxy

And yet those same planets

cannot resist the sun’s pull

Its gravity draws them, holds them

in beautiful harmony

All drift slowly away

and yet remain entranced

like shy lovers in a dance

Their steps measured by a symphony of millenia

But one dancer,

the smallest and nearest planet to the sun,

cannot help but love the blazing star

and unlike all the others who stay far,

draws nearer, nearer still

Though its surface grows scorched

and cracked, and its seas

evaporated at the sun’s first kiss

it dares to approach in bliss

It knows no other desire

than to be closer

Closer

And one day, it will fall into that fiery embrace

and be consumed

And its last thought will be

not of regret

but ecstasy

How Does A Heart Break?

 

How does a heart break?

Is it a glass falling to the ground?

A scatter of shards and

the irredeemable sound

of fractures, too many to repair?

Is it sudden, complete?

Is one left standing

in the circle of glittering pieces

staring at the refracted light,

trembling hands empty, and empty inside?

 

How does a heart break?

Is it the slow shifting of a fault-line,

a grinding pressure, a bit at a time?

Does it compress and harden

under all the weight?

Collapse in on itself, until a great

seismic shudder of energy

surges and presses out

and throws everything around

into chaos?

 

How does a heart break?

Is it a stone in a river,

silent and still?

Letting the persistent waters of grief

wash over it, years upon years,

until the river’s tears

have worn away any definition

and it is smooth and unresisting?

Little by little, day by day,

does it give itself away

so there’s nothing left to take anymore?

So it can’t be robbed

by the constant throb

of pain or loss or longing?

 

How does a heart break?

Is it a glass, a quake, a stone?

Does your heart feel these things?

I know only my own.

 

As the Summer Dies

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Life starts anew as the summer dies,

And the moon hangs full over ripened fields.

Rain-damp leaves carpet the ground;

the air is heavy with their passing.

 

You and I walk this far-flung road,

And truths fall from us like leaves.

We tell our secrets before we realize what we’ve said,

And suddenly we stand in the blazing light of honesty.

 

If I could bend my words, pound them flat and solid,

burnish them until they shone mirror-bright,

You could gaze into them and see yourself as I see you:

Stronger than you think,

Wiser than you believe,

Lovelier than you hope.

You yourself are mirror-bright.

 

But like the first leaf falling–

summer’s small death–

I feel the sudden shift of atmosphere,

uncomfortably self-aware in the light of our candor.

Our easy, flowing honesty hitches.

I’ve already said too much.

 

So my words lose their glow,

grow dull and flat and safe,

restrained by the fear of looking foolish,

and you see yourself with your own eyes,

Not mine.

I catch my breath, hold my tongue,

and we walk into the autumn night.

Ex Nihilo

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There are days when I all I need

Is not to need

Sometimes my heart is a black hole

I take and take

Tell me, when’s it gonna be enough?

When I’m looking to be filled

by empty air

I’ll never be satisfied

So fill my heart with something real

Not some cheap imitation

Fill me so I can be poured out

So I can give for once

and look for nothing in return

You who created everything from nothing

Take this emptiness in me

and breathe

Make all things new

Even me

Vulnerability

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In the desire to be strong,

it is easy to become hard,

and vulnerability

often feels like frailty.

How humiliating it can be

to admit that we need–

That we aren’t able to keep going

alone–

That we are desperate to know

and be known.

Even now I hide behind this word:

“We”

when, if I’m being honest,

I mean “me.”