Laundry-Inspired Poem

Washing Machine (7-20-13)




in & by the Holy Spirit.

Painful? Yes, until I become soft.

Dizzying? Disoriented so that I may become oriented.


A Distant Flame (a poem)

A faint fire burns on a distant hill

a long journey with winds never still

a forest and valley demon-full

but the thought of warmth…pulls.


It has been many miles since I last felt the flame

And may be many more til I see it again

The joy of freedom slowly subsides

Once more to be captured fills my mind.


My need for heat I half-heartedly fight

But the temperature’s dropping night after night

How long must I wait to reach the next peak?

How long is each night when I cannot sleep?


I hope she’s as far from the fire as I

Yet the light of the flame glistens her eye

And leads her through a thorny field

And I pray her quest will never yield.


On some frozen evening by fire’s light

With both the precious hill in sight

May we warm ourselves in love’s golden glow

And on our journey together go.

On the Steps of Santa Croce-Summer 1995 (a poem)

On the steps of Santa Croce

Did I look into her eyes,

By the lions made of stone

Did my senses start to rise,

Near the bones of Buonarotti

I saw a creation so fair,

She could have been his,

Marble, with blackened hair.

Only such a man

could envision such a sight

Near the church di Santa Croce

Beneath the Firenze light

Behind a Dante made of stone

I saw her so divine,

But a drama, not a comedy,

If only I could have known.

My poor little neglected blog…..

I am ramping up for the most busy, stressful, exciting 3 months of my life.  But I think I need to blog more to get through it.

I still haven’t shared much from my retreat. Kinda processing.  Kinda moved on.

I may go way back to share more of my story.  I left off around the time I returned from Italy and before I went to Harding.

I have been reading my journals/diaries from HS and college and laughing at myself.  May share some poems or stuff from way back.

I will prob blog more about psychology/mental health stuff since that will be a focus in my life the next 3 years and until I die.

And talk about transitions.

I am a child

I am a child
scared and alone.

I am a child
without a home.

I am a child
in need of love.

I am a child
looking above.

I am a child
in need of a Father.

I am a child
prone to wander.

I am a child
scared to open the door.
I wonder in my heart,
‘What is He here for?”

I am a child
confused by His love.
I ask for his Spirit
to descend as a dove.

I am a child
no longer in need.
I am His child
for His son did bleed.

I am a child,
a child of a king.
I am His child,
and to Him I will sing.

I am a child
a child of God.