Sometimes,
I remember that
the radio continues to play
as a car wrecks,
and I think that’s
how we often live –
ravaged by pain,
aware of our destruction,
and, yet,
humming along.
Faith, Health, and Other Musings
May our minds flourish with creation, and may our hands never deny its expression.
Sometimes,
I remember that
the radio continues to play
as a car wrecks,
and I think that’s
how we often live –
ravaged by pain,
aware of our destruction,
and, yet,
humming along.
You are a snow day,
a game-saving buzzer shot,
the first sip of coffee,
and the last page
of my favorite book,
when good defeats evil
and love wins.
I think our trouble
with “unifying”
is that we glorify
a beautiful, abstract
unity,
but never —
never —
choose unity
above
sharing each and every
fleeting condemnation
that occurs to us,
and thereby
keep unity
from ever
becoming.
She pulls me
gently
down a well-worn path,
littered with ferns and old letters,
and brings me to
a flowery clearing.
“This is always where they leave,”
she says,
indicating the barren field.
“Yes,” I say,
“this is it.”
“This is what?”
“This is a perfect place
to build a home.”
Christ sacrificed
skin,
speech,
defense,
and life —
it is,
perhaps,
the least we can do
to sacrifice
our impulse
to dominate
in argument
and put
in its place
prayer.
You don’t just rise in the morning with your character; it’s formed and reformed every day, pressed together, pulled apart, and recreated by your
company
connections
music
moments
books
browsers
paths
and poisons.
And I guess
we’re all
edible,
letting ourselves be
(or yet being able to stop from being)
devoured by our
expectations,
environment,
and
egos,
being swallowed whole
by the earth
and its many woes.
We all carry hearts
that want to
resist
rebel
riot —
let our rebellion
be against inequality,
disrupting a system
that never saw
our defiant hearts
coming
for it.