He is There

the time draws near,

the journey almost at an end,

home is just beyond the distant horizon,

lying only a heartbeat away;

and I am ready;

He is there waiting,

ready to make all things new,

removing the darkness,

wiping away every tear;

the pain will pass,

the doubt will be removed,

the suffering will be no more,

the night will be turned to day;

the joy shall be forever;

He is there waiting,

ready to make all things new,

removing the darkness,

wiping away every tear;

these words fade away,

time passes like a dream in the night,

these prison walls crumble into the dust,

all things will be as intended;

all things will be made right;

He is there waiting,

ready to make all things new,

removing the darkness,

wiping away every tear.

.

.

Without You

I cannot love

without You,

I cannot dream

without You;

the harder I try,

the more I understand

that I can do nothing

without You;

hold on to me

when I am weak,

give me strength

when I have none,

give me courage

when I am afraid,

show me the way

when I am lost;

let me be in Your will,

is all that I ask,

let me be pleasing to You,

is all that I desire;

fill me with Your love,

show me how to care,

let my soul bask in Your joy,

let it be infinite and complete;

everyday I am reminded of the wonder that is You,

everyday I am renewed by Your comforting love,

everyday I overcome through Your power and grace,

everyday I get a little closer to the day

that I am with You;

where death shall no longer have it’s sting,

and no sound of mourning heard,

pain will be a distant memory,

as every tear is wiped away;

for the old shall pass away,

and You will make everything new.

.

.

Today Will Have to Wait

I started to get dressed,

instead, all I could do,

was lay back down;

today will have to wait;

that is how it is,

when the clock runs down,

but it does continue to move,

so there is still hope;

on television,

angry crowds protest,

screaming words of hate

at little children,

staring out of a bus window,

wondering what they have

done wrong,

to be the objects of

such maniacal wrath,

when the truth is,

they have done nothing,

except be born,

in a world where might

makes right,

and wealth demands privilege;

the mob stands firm,

in their position of moral

and political correction,

their comments,

their words,

their agendas,

their motives,

their ulterior objectives,

their over the top protests,

silently gives them away;

in it all,

there is fear,

in it all is self-preservation,

in it all is greed;

I no longer participate

in this self-illusion,

this mockery,

this secret subterfuge,

this moral dilemma,

it is what it is,

nothing can change it,

nothing can undo it,

darkness knows not mercy,

evil has it’s day;

good people,

blinded by hate,

drowning in the cesspool

of their own self-righteousness;

today will have to wait.

.

.

grieve

I would do it;

but the finality of it all

stands in the way;

the uncertainty;

the hesitation;

sometimes I think,

this is the way it should be,

all the time;

beyond feeling,

beyond caring,

beyond knowing,

beyond rewrites and

perfection,

beyond judgment,

beyond misery,

beyond charades,

beyond lies,

beyond self-delusion;

beyond love and fantasy,

beyond wondering and doubt;

beyond self;

every denial demands

atonement,

every question requires

an answer,

for every gift

there is a price,

for everything worth having

there is a cost;

I wish it were not so,

I wish there was another way;

madness rules,

darkness lights the way,

You are all that is left

at the end of the day,

there are things

bigger than ourselves,

beyond thinking or reason,

there are things that

matter most,

there are things that define

who we are,

the miles go by,

the years pass,

the end is near;

soon enough,

soon enough;

this poverty has

another face,

another kind of soul,

quiet and alone,

frightened and confused,

suicide can be so blind,

nothing more than

a whisper,

spitting and sputtering,

laughing and pretending;

you cannot love anyone,

until you have learned

to grieve for everyone.

.

.

Haves and Have Nots

easy to turn your back,

when you’re one of the haves;

have a job,

have a home,

have money,

have food;

have affordable health care;

believing the lies,

giving into the fears,

buying into the stereotypes;

they’re all lazy,

they’re all immoral,

they’re all looking

for a free lunch;

they all get what they

deserve;

so afraid

they might take

something that belongs

to you,

some of your hard earned

treasure,

all the things

you sweated and slaved for,

all the idols you fall down before

and worship,

all the things you sold

your soul for;

the have-nots of the world

are beginning to rise,

they’re not going away quietly

anymore,

they’re tired of the abuse,

they’re no longer content

with the crumbs,

there are things

bigger than themselves;

things worth dying for.

.

.

No Mistakes

I lose track of the days,

in this life

that is no life,

holding on,

slipping farther away,

feeding hungers and lies

that know no limits,

desperately reaching out

for the truth that heals,

silently seeking redemption

in a ravenous world

that consumes

everything in sight,

speaking wisdom that is

as empty as the chains

with which it speaks;

outside is death and mourning,

wailing and destruction,

but in here we are safe;

perhaps;

addicted to our deceptions,

our lies, our disease,

deceived by the illusion,

trapped in the cages,

drowning in the cesspools,

surrounded by the swamps;

we make our choices,

we choose failure over success,

we cry and scream,

we search and dream,

but we make our own choices;

there are no mistakes,

in the end we become

what we are,

monsters of our own making,

creations of our own choosing,

monsters and demons,

basking in the warm, electric glow

of the sinister excitement,

living vicariously through

their evil existence;

we alone choose;

there are no mistakes,

in our ineptitude,

bumbling along,

careening down paths

without a clue,

blindly searching for the truth

and light,

and sun,

and sky,

but there are no mistakes,

it is all as intended,

every word,

every second,

every moment,

every shit,

every fuck,

every amen;

there are no mistakes.

.

.

My Home

we hide inside our houses,

dreaming of the tomorrows,

imagining the possibilities,

running from the darkness,

mystified by the mystery,

trapped within the illusion,

waiting for the destination;

forever seeing,

but never knowing;

forever hearing,

but never understanding;

if it were up to me,

I would stay in this place,

seeking shelter from the storm,

swallowed up by the myth,

drowning in the depths,

growing cold from the emptiness,

guarding Your truth

like a rare and precious jewel,

but Your grace knows better;

Your will demands more;

I am searching for my home,

but I don’t know how to get there,

so I quietly wait in the wilderness,

running from the ghosts,

hiding from the demons,

praying for a tomorrow;

my home is neither here nor there,

not ahead or behind,

not without or within,

my home is in a land far away,

a whisper on the howling wind,

a flicker in the candlelight glow;

close your eyes and it is forever gone;

my home is nothing,

my home is everything,

my home is all there is.

.

.