Understanding

I need more time to think.

Time to form these thoughts

That have been bubbling up from beneath

The surface of my soul for years.

Today I'm one step closer to understanding.

But I still need more time.

I still need an open mind,

Before I can free my soul.

It all makes sense, these bits

And pieces that I have put together,

But it's not finished. It probably never will.



Still, my soul feels lighter than before,

While my mind weighs in. Heavy.

Raised by the Earth; understanding Her,

Loving Her, is why.

How can any mere man tell

Me what He asks of me?

How can denial of the beauties He has given,

Being me closer to His side?

No building of man is the sole house of God.



My soul is on fire!

But not by sin, for fire is like all on Earth,

Inherently good.

It is when good things are taken as a right

Instead of a gift, that the the use of good things

becomes bad.

I understand, but I need time.

I know no mortal who can wield the power of God.

No human with the omnipotence of Him.

Instead all things are too be loved,

All things have an essence,

All things are equal,

But all things will never be understood.

Only God has that power,

For me to even feign it, is hypocrisy,

But I know you won't find it with that blindfold on,

Because the man that leads,

Is wearing one too.

January

Snow lies thin on the streets,

Don't know where snow ends

And ice begins.

Driving toward awkward conversations,

An icy stomach and hot cheeks.

I watch the streetlights;

Red, green, yellow

And red again,

More slowing us down than moving us forward.

The leather seat feels cold

As I try to warm my hands over the vent.

I move nearer to the destination

As our green SUV drives on.

With a sharp turn to the right,

A building bitter, but beautiful comes to view.

We park between a red minivan

And a yellow bug.

Wind changes to a grand room

Warmed by fire but chilled by sadness

Greeting friends with smiles is greeted by guilt

But it's not my fault.

I'm sorry still.

Idol chit-chat, meaningless

But with arctic undertones.

Walking through the line of mourners in black

To shake your hand.

I'm sorry, though it's not my fault.

Wordless as my turn draws near

I stare blankly at the green carpet

But it does not inspire.

"You're so much braver than I,

I'm here for you even though I've been gone.

I'm sorry." It's entirely my fault

That I can't say those words.

A nod and a hug,

Forgive my cold, red hands.

Time Bomb

I look behind me

And see the rubble.

Face forward

Can't see through the smoke

Of smoldering past:

Loved.

Forgotten.

Lost then missed.

Pushing forward past the ruins,

The wasted purity of the earth,

Stained by the bombs.

The ashes rain down on my hair,

While they burn my bridges

So close behind me,

Melting the rubber on my shoes.

Moving forward,

Must move beyond.

Can't escape,

The destruction follows behind.

So quick, I cannot linger.

Onward.

Though the smoke stings my eyes

And the burning tears fall.