Sarah

dedicated to Sarah Bestvater.

it took us four hours
on a windy December afternoon
to realize that the fabric
of our souls was a perfect match
we shared a thousand words
and understood that there
was no going back
to simple “how are you”s
and a passing acquaintance
we sealed the deal with Rilke
and embraced an apophatic faith
full of mystery and the deep
darkness of God
daring to speak our minds
and more importantly our questions
December has turned into July
and already the foundation is laid
for a tower of safety and solace
we were fated to be friends

discovery

there is only dust left now
fine and faintly silver
I am afraid to breathe
afraid to disturb the ancient sleep
of long buried beliefs
silent now for centuries
crumbling slowly beyond
all recognition
[though sometimes if I imagine
hard enough
a faint outline appears
I can almost grasp its meaning]
the divine tangible now
on this disenchanted altar
an eerie choir of angels and echoes
sings just beyond the range of sound
catch myself humming a tune
I’ve never heard before

when I turn around
she’s standing there
waiting
half angry
at my reverence for shadows
I have no way of knowing
how long she has been there
waiting
for me to notice

but then
it doesn’t matter
not really
not at all

genetic history

This was inspired by the book The Seven Daughters of Eve: The Science that Reveals our Genetic Ancestry by Brian Sykes.

history runs down my spine
like the first tell-tale tingle of alarm
I’m trying to avert my eyes
standing on a cliff
overlooking the incredible vastness of time
I have existed in mitochondria
for thousands of years
my bones know a story
only they can tell
I wonder who else’s bones
tell the same story
a red thread of connection
through thousands of ancestors
where does the umbilical cord end?

haiku!

today, I saw a
peacock walking down the road
confidence in blue

(I really did see a peacock walking down Glover Rd. yesterday!)

Rain

have you every walked through rain
and heard the whispers
little voices speaking with no sound
splatting all around
clouding your glasses with words
have you ever stopped and listened to the rain
it has its own soul you know
calling out
waiting to be heard
splashing its joy into the puddles
you only trudge through
listen to the dripping
find a word other than monotonous
isn’t it rhythmic, mysterious
the raindrops are dancing to a drumbeat
all their own
can you hear it
have you ever watched them
sliding down the window panes
could you catch the laughter
open the window
stretch out your hand
feel the wetness in your palm
taste the smell of fresh ice and earth
you are holding the soul of rain
can you hear it whispering? delighted.
someone noticed.

[I believe]

[no longer condemned]
the gavel drops and
I’m holding it

[forgiven]
accusations ring out and
I’m saying the words

[regarded as blameless]
guilt suffocates and
I fight the urge to breathe

[given love]
contempt kills and
I limit what is limitless

[given truth]
ignorance invades and
I am safer in blindness

[given freedom]
i build a fortress of discipline

[I believe]

i am free

butterfly wings
broken in two
someone stole the colours
turned everything to grey
laughter lies
shattered on the floor
waiting for someone
to pick up the pieces
lost and scattered
in the mud
stepped on by unsacred feet
how could you drop it?

wind sings
its last lullaby
then sucks away
into nothing
I have lost a friend
can longer hear your voice

one by one
the candles die
echoing their flame in smoke
pungent and terrible
I can’t breathe
I can’t: breathe

slowly hope turns away
takes its wistful exit
lingering in the doorway
for one last glimpse
of all the pain
that should never have been

and me
I’m here
waiting for the sun to rise
maybe I’ll be able to see
maybe not

I can’t pick up the pieces
put the colours back in place
I can’t sing the wind
back to life
light the candles all again

I can live.
I am free.

MK (missionary kid)

unsure of why grey speaks to me today

I lose myself in clouds

ever shifting, ever changing

I find a constant in the inconsistency

my life reflects the pattern

of coming and going

long to lose myself in the grey

not feel the need for green, solid earth

why is it I have no colour to claim

no world to call my own

other than the sky

strung between continents

worship

words flung away from time
buried in distance
lost in a thousand distorted echoes
laughter ringing
from bell towers
calling all the world to prayer
I drown now in music
silent harmonies
from beyond the mountains
my soul lacks grace
trips, falls, slides
into postures before unknown
waiting for that one moment
stillness indescribable.

untitled

find my feet
in this new place
sea of faces
I will learn to know
find that I am alone
in this new territory
I have not found my voice
have lost my ability to laugh
waiting to find
there is freedom
unsure of how to get there
I leave behind comfort
put on a brave face
to show this unfamiliar world
shy away from the questions
every soul confronts in the dark
will anyone seek me here
or will this face, too, be lost
in the multitude of masks
no different from one city street to another.