It’s a shock when you/
think you know a Mensch, then learn/
new, down to zero.
Do not ever hate/
crying with emotion*, or/
you’ll shut off my tears.
OR
*emotional crying, ‘cuz/
Violating a/
woman feels much worse when you/
don’t know what happened.
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.