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
Spring rain kisses the windshield
As I sit in the humid car
And wait for you
My fingers drum the steering wheel
Following an erratic rhythm
Of the song in my head
Lightly falls the rain
Drops collecting, combining,
Snaking their way down the glass
I watch them slide away
But my eyes unfocus
And I am gazing past them
At nothing in particular
My eyes wait for you
To emerge through the rain
Like a vision, like a dream
But you do not part the raindrops like a curtain
You do not push the clouds back like a scroll
You do not show up at all
My fingers stop their drumming
My eyes stop their searching
The rain stops its falling
And I slowly drive away
Still waiting
The days stretch on–
a blurred line,
a slow succession
leading into mist
which never parts.
Is everyone’s future
so unfathomable?
Or do some see it
stretch before them
like a bright river,
carrying them, all anticipation,
swiftly onward
to their destination?
These days and days and days
take out all
the fight in me.
I shouldn’t be so tired.
But where there was fire,
there are now only embers
smoldering, cooling, waiting
for some sweet breath
of wind to blow
and coax
them to a warmer glow.
I dare not hope for a blaze.
And yet, in this haze,
this march of days,
I find a quiet, bending strength.
And maybe the fight in me
hasn’t died; it has learned
a steady stance.
Perhaps the fight
isn’t always flame and spark.
Perhaps it’s standing, enduring,
even through the dark.
Even now I find
that day after day,
the fight isn’t a battle.
It’s the will to stay.
I’ve always wanted to be brave
To face my demons unafraid
And yet I’ve always waited on
Someone, something, far beyond
But there are wolves outside my door
And I’m a child no more
Throw open wide this shuttered heart
Let in the light till shadows part
Gaze straight into the the truth of me
Embrace the facts unflinchingly
Unlock the gate, unbar the door
For I’m a child no more
I swell beyond these strict confines
Overflow my precious lines
Past the margins, I am free
Expand to the periphery
Plummet down or rise to soar
Either way, a child no more
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
The well flows with water
but it’s empty for me
My parched lips touch the cup
And I drink long and deep
But it never fills me
Never satisfies
It’s not water that I need
But where is mercy liquified?
I keep drawing from the well
Hoping something new will rise
But it’s always just the same
And the longing never dies
Oh, come bend down close to me
Tell me everything I am
Lay bare my secrecy
So I can no longer pretend
That this water is enough
That my life is not so rough
That my heart is pretty tough
Tell me that you know
Every gross indecency
Every hidden part of me
Voice it plainly since I won’t
And set me free
Living Water, speak and say:
“Messiah – I am he.”
Water is grace
Ever downward-flowing
to the lowest place
Joyfully throwing
itself from the heights
with no thought
to spare for itself
or the consequences
of its descent
Selflessly bearing life
down, down to reach
the nadir
and pooling there
bathing that dark space
transforming it
So it is with grace
I am a siren still
And I sing the only song I know
Tenuously suspended
in a liminal space
Part woman, part bird
Flighty, I abhor a cage
And my sharp eye
and flitting bird-heart
Fear its confinement
But perhaps I have shed
A few of these feathers
and become more wholly
a person, not a fable
I sing and hope
for one who knows the perils
and dares anyway
to approach my jagged coastline
To take my hand, taloned as it is
and bear my flaws
Lead me not to a cage,
but to a horizon
And hear me, truly
hear me
Because I sing the only song I know:
My own.
I cannot stop loving the stars
Though I have never
in all my life
seen them fill the sky
They have always been
partially hidden
by smog or clouds
or city lights
But I dream of how they look
if I only had the eyes to see them
and they are glorious
swirling through the black emptiness
a sonata of energy
galaxies spinning, expanding
colors so vivid
they can’t be real
And perhaps it is the fact
that I have not seen them–
not gotten the chance to
get accustomed to the wonder–
perhaps that is why
my love for them endures
Let me not be satisfied
to the point of apathy, lethargy
It is the wanting that beautifies us
The longing, the dreaming
The hunger to be more
to be greater
to be filled
These are given us by God
to pull us out of ourselves
and into eternal joy
An endless pouring out
only to be replenished
This beautiful desire
for the glorious
will be fulfilled
But not yet
Not yet
Woman With a Pen 