Ashes

It was

when I was

dust

that

I was

given the

embrace of life,

so I cry

into the wind,

“I can

scarcely

wait

to be

dust again.”

Wordsmith Wednesday: Poem XIX

The thing

about being

tested

by fire

is that

you walk out

with ashes

at your feet

and flames

at your fingertips

On Sacrifice

During those moments

of fleeting humanity,

I reject painful sacrifice,

but then I recall the truth:

it is my highest honor

to do something,

for my God,

that hurts.

Firestone Friday: Poem XV

Consumed by deadlines.

Buried in unmet dreams.

Burdened by rejections

that press me farther downstream.

From beneath the water,

I greet the stones with a grin,

for it takes water in your ears,

to hear the voice within.

The Whisperer makes to speak,

and tells the wearied me,

that the things for which I labor

hold not my identity.

The essence, the potentialities,

the soul, and the heart,

your daily triumphs and your failures

hold not even part.

Touchstone Tuesday: Poem X

My heart

races when I

read Scripture,

for it is my heart,

and it has been

found out.

Composition of Souls

Beyond

spider’s silk,

diamonds,

and graphene,

it is the composition

of souls

that is the strongest,

most impenetrable

material,

unrivaled in its

integrity,

indomitable

in its endurance.

Ricochet

I ricochet

between

the feelings of

depravity

— the shame

of seeing God

yet still

choosing myself —

and the majesty

of there ever

being a moment

during which

self-interest

was conquered

at all.

How we

are irredeemable

and redeemed,

all at once.

On Spirit

I find it difficult

to write

poems of

spirit and faith —

a challenge

that surprises me,

for there are, truly,

few moments

more poetic

than casting my heart

onto the ground,

crying out to my Creator,

in desperate hope and distress,

for relief from the boulders

that burden me to the earth.

What do you carry in your heart but struggle to write about?