We walked.
You wore my chapeau
And pink
And leaned
To see something closer
And I did, too.
And it was art.
Today I walked
Alone
Where you were pink
And wore my deck.
(I’d forgotten
you were talking
to someone else
on the phone).*
And I wondered
Why we couldn’t
Walk that way
Again.
*Added the next day when I saw the photo of her wearing my hat … and talking on the phone.
At His Judgement Bar,/
I don’t want to think or feel:
“Get me out of here!”
If I examine/
my life, change, and follow Him,
what does that look like?
Sitting in the pew,
I am
A clean slate;
An empty chalkboard;
A white doc;
A unformed lump of clay;
A tilled garden;
A blank canvas.
I wait to hear
What He will say;
What direction I should go;
What I will change;
What He wants me to do;
How to best obey.
I’m willing to turn
my life over;
Fill my empty,
clean,
white,
unformed,
tilled,
blank
heart and soul and mind
with His directions.
Begin.
She asks me: What will/
your verse be? Answer: It’s new./
I write it daily.
Every man deserves/
more than someone who’s hung up/
on another guy.
If she’s a good girl,/
can I no longer send her/
bad poems I wrote her?
OR
bad poems which she mused?
If I’m to lift where I stand/
How often should I reprimand/
Others for their silliness?/
The government for causing duress?/
Our kids and friends for giving us stress?
Capitalists for raising prices?
Immoral folks who are spreading vices?
Big industry for pollution?
Bankers with no economic solution?
Do we rail as some try to do good?
Could their motives be misunderstood?
We often stand and criticize,
As we look with judging eyes.
What if we focused our critical gaze
Into our own internal maze?
Wouldn’t we see so much clearer
If we looked, first and only, into the mirror?
Would we be able to do more good
If we learned to lift where we stood?
We do not stick our heads in the sand/
When we help by lifting where we stand.
For isn’t it said: There is nothing greater
than loving God by serving our neighbor?
The Italian food/
was maybe better then, ‘cuz/
we were deep in love.
She would have been my/
Garden angel, but I had/
to face pain alone.