The room we leave in our hearts for the Omniscient One.A dedicated space for the pain we will never understand,Where perplexity goes to lie-The resting place of despair.The mystery box isAn acknowlement of our limits of knowing-Surrender of our rights for clarity;Heavy leaning on Sovereignty.Trusting that the Good Shepherd holds all our daysWith all they […]
Read more "Mystery Box"
We cannot redeem ourselves.There is no soap strong enoughTo scrub our pastNot enough self-help and motivational contentTo unquestionably alter our trajectoriesThere isn’t enough self-care in the worldTo truly make ourselves whole.Our stories didn’t need edits-They needed to be re-toldPowerfully re-weavedDecisively remastered,Where the marks we’ve made with our failuresAre met with the indelible strokesOf a Master […]
Read more "The business of redemption"
Our bank accountsOur healthThe houses we live inThe people we loveThe institutions we trustThe careers we pine forThe politics we’d die forThe breath in our lungs.All goods in the end are perishable.Not much lasts forever.So perhaps its to best to liveWith an open-handednessThat doesn’t grasp too tightlyOn things that, by nature,Are always slipping away.
Read more "Perishable goods"
We are not expansive enoughTo know how significantOur lives are going to be in the end.Maybe we will be celebratedAnd our efforts will have countedFor generations to come,Maybe our work will be creditedTo another,Maybe we will be cancelled posthumouslyMaybe no will remember us.Either way, we won’t be thereTo make a better case forThe life we […]
Read more "A coin in His pocket"
The pen does so much more thanRecord our present thoughtsOr disperse our ideasFar and wideFor others to savor.The pen presents an opportunityFor a part of ourselvesTo exist outside of our physical membersOn a pageFor others to encounter.Every day I populate my mindWith the written words of great writers,From ancient scribes of sacred textsTo contemporary authors […]
Read more "Writing for Reincarnation"
Sometimes the edgesAre where we feel most comfortableThe unvarnished corners of the roomWhere its easy to hideEasy to get used to pretencePerformanceClaiming to be at peaceWhen we’re really just tired of fightingLike those drained out nightsWhen you pass out on the sofaKnowing you should get up and go to bedYet the painful akwardness ofBeing in […]
Read more "Comfortable?"
70 years.That’s what most of us can hope for.The drama of lifeThe horrors of being at the mercy of the mercilessThe comedy of the honest fumblings of the innocent,All the wear and tear and degradationAll the new songs and new morningsPointless meetingsAnd moments of transcendenceAll the ambitionAll the sufferingLived out on this small blue planet-Billions […]
Read more "Three score and ten"
There is no such thing. We all know this. Yet the struggles still catch many of us by surprise. Living under someone else’s roof, No matter what form that takes, Has its own set of inflections on your individualism And yet waking up every day to a home That only you inhabit Can impede on […]
Read more "Struggle free lane"
..is when something diminishes as a result of not being used. Your voice. From not speaking up. Your agency. From not grasping opportunity. Your heart. From indifference and apathy. Your life. From not living it. But letting it slip by. Perhaps worse than being dead Is wasting away while still breathing. He who observes the […]
Read more "Atrophy"