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.
We reject pain,
but how
that rejection
— that indominatable spirt
to thrive against loss,
creates the most
beauty!
Thunderstorms
and hurricanes
deceive us
when they change course,
letting us believe
that disaster can
weave around us,
when death is a tempest
that will not miss.
Of course,
we suffer agony
when we lose someone;
how can you not,
when something
crawls out of your heart,
tears through your chest,
and sinks, blood-soaked,
into the soft earth?
I have mourned you
for as long
as I have loved you;
for, from the moment
you became my heart,
I knew that,
someday,
my chest would
never be
that full again.
(What will I do with my eyes when they can’t look at you?)