Almighty

We sing
We dance
We play.
Or do we?
Do we just
Vocalize our notes
Sway to the music,
Please a little kid?
And we wonder
Why we find no joy.
Why there is
No wonder in song
No wildness in dance
No laughter in play.
We have forgotten these things.

But if there is laughter
Where can we hear it?
If there is wonder
Where can we see it?
If there is wildness
Where can we feel it?

We find it in One.
One Word
One Hope
One Almighty
One Creator
One Savior
One God
One Song.
Almighty.

Darkness

The pain of a loss empties us
It surrounds our hearts
Like a film.
It crushes our minds
Until we wish we could not feel.
But if we do not feel
How do we laugh?
If we do not feel
How do we rejoice?
If we do not feel
We do not ache,
And we become heartless,
Slaves of an unsaleable darkness
By all but the light we have scorned.
For our hearts are light,
When we lean on the Light,
But they are heavy,
When we scorn all feeling.
If we do feel,
How alive are we?

The Storm

The stillness oppresses

Crushing me like a stone.

Yet I remain, exultant

And at peace.

For I feel not the stillness,

Nor feel the crushing weight.

For I see the storm

And I hear the rolling thunder.

The falling rain drops strike my cheek

And caress my arms. 

The storm is beautiful to me.

Can You Feel?

Can you feel the maelstrom
Of your heart swirling?
As something far to strong,
Pulls you into a whirling,
Hurling, shatter mass,
Of timbers and wreckage.

Can you hear the hurt
Of your soul crying?
As you leave it in the dirt,
For a life so fulfilling.
Or so draining and painful,
You cannot decide.

How much will we give for power,
How far will we go for glory?
But another should have the power,
And He should have every glory,
But we shatter ourselves instead,
Searching for something we cannot find.

Can you feel the peace
That comes with joy?
There is such a release
That accompanies this joy.
For our strength is not ourselves,
But our Lord. We must follow Him.

My Sister is Crazy

My sister is crazy.

Have you heard the news?

My sister is not mentally right.

She does strange things,

Like knitting and quilting.

She likes weird things,

Like Amish fiction and cats.

My sister is crazy.

She tries to read my books.

When they’re not actually books yet.

My sister is crazy.

My sister is weird. 

Sometimes she might take over the world.

But she crochets instead,

Or plays with her Daleks.

My sister, let me tell you,

Is weird.

But I love her anyway,

Because who isn't weird?

And, after all, I do write poetry,

And you don't get much weirder than that.

My sister is crazy,

And that's why I love her.

School Problems

I am sad,
For a very good reason.
You see, though my school
Is currently all about poems,
They will not let me write one.
I do not understand
This mystery, for I have always
Done this before.
But they want me to write a paper.
Of all things to force me into,
They have made me write a paper.

Apples

Crunchy or mushy,
Sweet or tart.
Have your pick.
Bright reds,
Soft yellows,
Bold greens,
All here for the taking.
Larger than your fist,
Or barely larger than your palm.
Eat it all up,
Or leave behind a core,
Even a skin,
If you so will.