None But You

Therefore Jesus said again, “I tell you the truth, I am the gate for the sheep. All who ever came before me were thieves and robbers, but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved. He will come in and go out, and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” John 10:7-10

Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to men by which we must be saved. Acts 4:12

The night time sky approaches,
the last rays of sunlight
break through distant storm clouds,
small patches of blue linger,
creating pools of tranquility
within the departing maelstrom,
it is here I seek Your refuge,
it is here I hold on to Your hope
for just a moment more.

Another day comes,
another day goes,
the cost slowly taking its toll,
rising and falling with each
passing breath,
all the meaningless decisions pass,
all the thoughtless words fade,
still Your love remains,
still You pour out Your blessings
where none are deserved;

light within the darkness,
life inside this death.

Who can speak of wonders
which words can never say?
Who can understand mysteries
which can never be known?

none but You Lord,
none but You.
.
.

Desperation

Now the end may begin,
lost in this swirling
world of never,
eyes dressed incognito,
egos disguised by humility,
enemies in the shape of friends
make for the worst
of them all,
you never see them coming
until they have passed you by;

and by then
it’s always too late.

The movement continues
like liquid wildfire,
consuming all there is,
right or wrong hanging within
a delicate balance,
fools following forsaken
roads of folly,
on their way to this or that,
innocence never the issue,
something for nothing,
one for all,
everything for anybody,
some things for nobody.

This garden no longer grows,
fruit lies dying on the vine,
hope has no future here,
fertility fails,
fixations no longer provide a thrill,
sinking deep into the
oblivion below,
sink or swim,
desperation makes a strong argument
for justification,
survival separates the living
from the dead;

words once spoken
can never be returned.
.
.

She Doesn't Need Anybody

She doesn’t need you,
she doesn’t need anybody,
never has,
never will;

but still;

she hesitates for just a moment,
remembering a long forgotten
touch,
an embrace,
a kiss,
innocent and sweet,
tender and pure,
warm and moist,
it was the last time
she felt love,
it was the last time
she felt alive.

The moment passes,
never to return,
nothing speaks like silence;

she doesn’t need anybody;

and you love her
even more.
.
.

If These Hills Could Talk

If these hills could talk,
what tales they might tell;

moonlit nights,
modified muscle cars,
racing down winding,
mountain roads,
delivering fresh batches
of weekly ‘shine’
to bars and honky-tonks
across the Roanoke Valley,
missing revenuers,
never to be seen again,
tucked safely in isolated
gullies and ravines,
their rotting bones
all that is left,
camouflaged fields of
the new ‘cash crop’,
growing undisturbed until
ready for market;

the armies of Grant and Lee,
flanking and counter-flanking,
trying to gain the higher ground,
each seeking an advantage,
the dead from forays
and undocumented skirmishes,
slowly dissolving into the
rocks and clay,
providing food for scavengers
and worms;

ancient rock altars,
built upon a solitary ridge,
overlooking the valley far below,
shameful family secrets,
locked away for more generations
than anyone can remember,
silence the unspoken code;

if these hills could only talk.
.
.

Everything in its Place

He replied, “I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven. I have given you authority to trample on snakes and scorpions and to overcome all the power of the enemy; nothing will harm you. However do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”       Luke 10:18-20



Everything in its time,
everything in its place,
everything changes,
everything remains the same;

the wind blows where it will.

Who knows the approaching shadows?
Who understands the raging depths?
Who can see this terrible darkness?

the growing tempest looms
on the far off horizon;

it has begun,
it is finished.

“Nothing will harm you”

everything is temporary,
everything fades,
this never ending dream
rises like some ancient
early morning mist,
building from ashes
long since past,
as the day comes for those
who hold on to tomorrow;

while the night waits for the rest.

Here we shall fall,
here we shall stand;

if I only could,
you know I certainly would;

for everything there is a cost,
for everything there is a loss;

you were mine,
and I was yours.
.
.

The Final Frontier

By myself I have sworn, my mouth has uttered in all integrity a word that will not be revoked; Before me every knee will bow, by me every tongue will swear. Isaiah 45:23

Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. Philippians 2:9-11

At last,
the final frontier,
prison bars removed,
iniquity and filth
buried in the ground,
freedom forever;

fear and doubt
no more.

So close,
the taste burns
within your dry,
empty mouth,
truth uninterrupted,
light without limit,
glory beyond imagination,
flesh without sin;

life without death.

It is here,
You have brought me,
it is now
for which I have waited,
perfect power,
pure and unblemished;

every knee shall bow,
every tongue shall confess.
.
.

Mumia

Sometimes things
are exactly as they appear,
despite how badly so many
want to believe otherwise,
forgetting or choosing not to see
that the color of a man’s skin
does not make him innocent;

anymore than it makes him guilty.

Those with ulterior motives
and hidden agendas,
turn him into a martyr
for their cause,
because they know
when it comes to martyrs
and causes,
people don’t want to hear the truth,
they only want to hear that
which is righteous and perfect,
so they spin a fact or two here,
twist a detail there,
making the whole thing
much bigger;

than a young cop’s life.

Now they compare
this cold-blooded murderer,
this prophetic imposter,
to one of the greatest lights
the world has ever known,
one whose feet
Mumia is not worthy to kiss,
one whose entire life was dedicated
to fighting the darkness and evil
which Mumia represents;

Dr King deserves better than this.
.
.

Out on the Edge

Out on the edge,
people and places are seldom
what they seem,
lines become blurred,
light but a reflection,
faces come out of the night,
moving beyond darkness and death,
winter winds blow cold,
leaving trails of broken bones,
rising into the emptiness beyond;

out here,
all hope has died.

Sitting here
watching the rain fall,
nowhere left to go,
no more room to run,
the voices slowly fade,
the faces silently disappear,
everything passes with time,
nothing lasts forever,
is truth enough,
or does darkness win?

without love,
are you only
fooling yourself?

Nothing is hidden
that will not be revealed,
no debt goes unpaid,
a reckoning
for every word whispered
in the night;

an accounting
for promises made
but never kept.
.
.