Grace

I saw grace
Flowing 
Like a waterfall
But a drop
Is all I could grasp
The more I tried
To take hold
The less I seemed
To have
Tangible
Yet elusive
Frustration
Made me wonder
If grace
I could know
In any measure
And then
Everything changed
When I stopped 
I stopped grabbing
For grace
And instead
I cupped my hands
Watched them fill
And took a drink
Suddenly
I was revived
Refreshed
Hydrated
With living water
So often I grab
When I simply need
To receive

Gold From My Undoings

You spin gold from my undoings
Creating beauty from my faults
You make something from my nothing
From my sin your love is taught
There is no force upon the face
Of the earth that can compare
To your ever-present Spirit
To the grace you freely share
So I bow before you Jesus
As there’s no one else I see
Who can bring forth unseen wonder
From the mess I’ve made of me
Lift my life beyond the hopelessness
Take my heart and make it new
You’re the future I can’t fathom
And the love I dare pursue

Shame

Why must I bear the shame
Of your hatred and your pride
From birth I share your gender
By DNA my skin is white
But that's the reach of our connection
For you act with such disdain
And yet I live the stigma
Of your torch-lit claim to fame
My answer is to be among
The men whose skin is white
Yet seek to bring the heart of God
To your insipid evil fight
May I be so bold to offer up
The life I think I need to live
And may I find the courage
To regret I have but one to give

Dead Ended No More

Long had I wandered
In the harsh lands of doubt
Dead ends trod too often
With my legs giving out
Valleys of poverty
Mountains of shame
I stumbled and climbed
And limped along lame
I hardly took note
Of the one walking near
He called out my name
But it took time to hear
When I turned toward the sound
Of grace offered free
I found a companion
Who first founded me
The journey still taxing
The path narrow still
But the change unexpected
Was the strength of my will
Stronger I felt
With each passing stride
As Christ led me on
And walked by my side
My journey's not ended
I'm not sure when it might
But my dead ended wanderings
Are no longer in sight

Adrift

The touch of her hand
Nestled in mine
Wrestles my heart
From its moors
Soon set adrift
On her waters
I'm stranded
By beauty's allure
My heart unfurls
In an instant
As waves of emotion
I ride
Boldly
I untie the anchor
Setting sail
On the quick rising tide

Ever Always

Be ever always
As you should
And never
What you’re not
Look ahead
And not behind
There are doings
To be wrought
What was now is
And will remain
But what comes
Has yet been sought
The one who seeks
With heart held true
Will discover
What they ought

I Wait

Grace enough to breathe
Is what I long for
Grace enough to find
A way to see
Grace enough to overcome 
My sorrow
Grace enough to live
And fully be
Grace is what will save me
A gift I don’t deserve
Grace can fill the deepness
Overfill my dry reserve
Lord your promise 
Is my talisman
That holds in it my fate
I cling to what you offer
And on your healing touch
I wait

Early Morning Way

along the early morning way
every day steps 
taken anew
thoughts and hopes
of what may still yet be
curious of what has been
conjecture of what’s yet to come
converge to spark 
a new familiar dream
the buds
may never blossom 
and yet
they fuel the day
the early morning trek
is worth the time

Begin

Begin with your beginning
If you haven’t yet begun
Or begin there in the middle
Or just before its done
Begin anew
Or begin again
But begin where e’er you be
For until you start
It never ends
And the goal you never see
Begin with cries of courage
Begin with quiet thought
Which ever way is called for
Begin or all is naught 
It’s only your decision 
No one begins your quest
Take up your mantle
Start today
And begin what you know best

The Future

Just beyond the fingertips
Suspended in time
The future hangs
Like fruit ripe for picking
You can almost taste it
The sweetness of the first bite
The trickle of succulence on your chin
Quickly caught by the back of your hand
You imagine the goodness
And experience the freshness
Even before you pick it off the branch
This is the joy of the dream
The anticipation of the sumptuous
The gift of the present
Is its movement toward the future
And the hope of the divine