So I am here waiting.

And I’m going to be okay.

Cause you use waiting to make us ready.

And usually I try uselessly to push through the delay,


I push and, like air, the waiting rushes away from my fingertips,

My hands soar through it and contact nothing,

And I flail my limbs and I try to run and fall,

And I get mad that either I’m failing or you’re not working.


I’m doing okay. And you’re working.

But while I’m looking around for you to change things,

You’re trying to work in me,

And I’ve known that forever, but it’s finally hitting me,


You’ve been trying to get me this message and like air,

I move around your fingertips so you never make contact.


You’ve made contact.

I was finally standing still for long enough.


And I’m going to pray for you to hurry things along,

I’m going to pray for opportunities and guidance,

And the courage to follow you, and the push, of grace,

But I’m going to change my waiting stance,


I’m going to have joy in the days nothing happens,

Because I know something is happening,

I’m going to love waiting because it’s happening weather I fight it,

I can’t flight it,

So I’m going to love it,

I’m going to love the character building journey,

If nothing’s changing I will,

And maybe my situation will be influenced,

By seeing Yahweh work in me,

I’m going to have smiles and love for life,

Even when it doesn’t feel productive,

It’s called patience,

I’ve been very bad at enjoying life when it doesn’t seem to be moving,

But this standstill, maybe this treadmill,

All this running and seeing no difference,

Has made my legs a whole lot stronger,

And soon I’ll be ready to run the distance.






A Sending

Be safe,

My dear one, on an adventure,

Be still, and let the waves wash over,

Your anxieties, and fears with peace,

Be safe,

Dear one, and let things go,

But keep the memories, hold them tightly so

That you’ve evidence of your warm heart beating and

Confidence of it boldly proceeding,

Be wild,

Wonderful one, and find what’s holy,

Do not let fear stop you from reaching in,

Let a wise hope lead you to what’s therein,

Be you,

Let anger’s only way be to reconciliation,

And let hurts and defeats,

Be carried out to their completion,

For all is worked out for good my friend,

Yes all is worked for good,

Be you and work for good my friend,

As I’m confident you would,

The Kingdom in your soul,

And out your fingertips,

Hear the veil as it rips,

Beside each other we’ve lived forever,

But if the Lord is calling,

Step surely in His love for you,

And know my love goes with you too~

~A blessing to friends

Breathing underwater is easy, and with the thought she grinned, Part 2

Breathing underwater is easy, and with the thought she grinned, Part 2

There’s this feeling when I worship-

Not a feeling so much as a truth,

Like I can do anything anything,

Like underwater breathing,

Anything at all and ever,

As long as to Wind my heart can keep singing,

And so I’m sinking unafraid,


I think I need to be kinder to this puddle-

It’s only muddled and swampy because I’ve seen it wrong,

But it’s more like a lake- it’s bigger and clearer than I let on-

I was a little blind, you see…

The water has been so agitated, flipping and barreling over itself,

A lake in the confines of a puddle, waves begging to expand past its little wild huddle,

And what sends the waves into action but my very friend, the wind,

Thought of as a distraction when it’s source was Wind,

I’d be agitated too, if someone tried to rescind,

Such a power, such a goodness,

So I apologize as I swim,


And as I speak to this lake,

Her waves calm,

And as I explore,

She stills,


Brought to a peace of being forgiven and known,

Brought to a contentment as her boarders vanish-

For this could never be mistaken for a lake when it is such a great ocean,

At peace and begun to heal,

Waves are no longer panicked and sealed,

For their purpose is revealed,

And they are free to charge wild~

Breathing underwater is easy, and with the Thought she grinned

Breathing underwater is easy, and with the Thought she grinned

I just need to pick somewhere to start

How about a bridge?

A wooden one, in a forest with the feeling of enchantment,


Is this creative enough a space to get out my thoughts?

A safe enough one?


Okay so this forest is free and light and curious,

One could race as fast as her wild heart in this wilderness,

I could start,


I could hear my breath as it picks up pace, and feel my legs push through this space,

Taking forward bounds,

Moving fast but without haste,

Absorbing the constant grounds,


What sounds?

The wind is gushing, nothing subtle,

Blowing, barrelling, nothing shy,

But sure and strong, nothing like a muddle,


Wild playful and howling


Playful and impassioned~


This is where the poem changes tune, but I don’t know if I’m ready,

To leave the forest,

Box it in with a period,

Maybe with a squiggly I’ll feel more at rest~


Anyway, okay,

So I’m running and I’m barrelling and so is the wind,

And together we’re pounding, adding to each other,

My soul is loving this, untrimmed,


But I raced into a puddle,

Muddle, muddle, muddle,

Or I was in one the whole time,

And this puddle unweaves my rhyme,


This bounding and unrestrained soul a blundering,

Is held in by all this wondering,

Meant to be thundering,

It’s stuck in a puddle


Or not stuck, because I make my limbs keep going,

But they’re slow, and they’re tired, and they stumble,

Drudged down by the weight of the bog soaked shoes,

There was s’posed to be a rhyme there,

Muddle muddle muddle,

And shoes don’t make sense,

I’m barefoot through this forest, atop this soil,

Even through this puddle

this puddle has muddled,

~~~~~~~~~~~Everything up,


So where was I? Moving slowly,

Oh, no, no,

Can I forget it,

Can I retreat into the clear parts of myself,

Un-bogged, like I haven’t met it,

This puddle?

No no, I must mend it,


So can I ask a question here?

I know that’s not how it goes, these poems,

But I have to ask, do you know,

How to mend a puddle?


I’ve got this needle, and I have some thread,

But the water won’t be touched by it,

The puddle will not mend,

My needle uselessly moves through it,

So, sir, to what end?


Can’t I just pretend?

Pretend I’m running,

My mind can be flying,

But no- we must stay, must mend,


Okay. So how do I mend a puddle?

Do I take in the sides of soil around it,

Bring them together and stitch-stitch-stitch?

The soil crumbles in my fingers, oh forest, the soil crumbles and dusts the ground once more,

So how do I mend a puddle?


Befuddled and curious,

A little bit upset,

This puddle has soaked too much of my forest,

This puddle will not let-


Me go, let me breathe, let me have some space un-bogged, some space of running with ease,

How my heart likes the dream of running,

Even if it trips,

I have capable hands to catch me,

But bog water drip drip drips,


I’d grab the sun and force it out, to evaporate the puddle,

If it were possible to do so without dehydrating the whole

Coup of leaves that rustle,

Around this singing dancing soul, in its soaking puddle,


I cannot pull the soil around and simply cover it up,

I can’t dehydrate, and can’t ignore it,

I think I have to sort through it, so,

I think I have to swim in it,


Give her run a pause, stop forcing un-energized limbs to move,

Take a second to feel a now gentle wind,

A second to breathe and remind herself,

That breathing underwater is easy, and with the thought she grinned.



I’ll watch the northern lights

And tuck them in my dreams,

So when I speak light of the Lord,

They’ll add glory to the beams,

“My good and faithful servant”

Will fly and dance and gleam,

So when shadows come around.

Lost will be their schemes


Can light be put into words?

Or sounds or songs of flight?

Or perhaps a small stow of light

Flies within each air-born kite,

So if in settles the deep dark knight,

Sound kites and song kites and word kites will fight


Frighten away the knight of night!

Light the shadow soldier,

Light the growls of thunder,

With lightening brightening might!

See the sun shine ore the clouds,

See the Son shine ore the cross,

See the love which light gives life,

In life flees strife,

With fire comes faith,

Faith forthes peace and purity and saith

The Lord, “Well done,

Good and faithful servant”

Into life of light of lovely kite


Sweatpants and Bare Feet

Sweatpants and Bare Feet

Sweatpants and bare feet,

A tile floor, and music sweet,

The Lord sweet,

His beauty sweeps- through,

Bare feet sweep across the floor,

Shy arms sweep high and wide and open to soar,

Straight into the Kingdom,

And a shaky voice rings out,

And even that shaking voice is sure,

And those toes press into cold tile,

Heels lifted, we dance awhile,

Hand’s surely in His,

We dance forever’s while,

Our intertwined voices stretch out for miles,

And we sing in laughter,

As chains hit the tile,

Its echo sings out in laughter,

And I fly into your arms!

Because I am finally free,

And because you have always walked with me,

Talk out my wrinkles,

And whisper away my fears,

I delight in you,

And hallelu-jah you delight in me too,

Oh my feet move and the tile gives way to my rock,

Oh Lord, and I move in your arms,

An eternal dancing hug,

I am free in your love,

And I’ll stay,

I’ll stay like Ruth,

And I’ll follow like Elisha,

And my heels bounce in excitement,

And I know that I am yours,

And I can wait for you,

Because you are here with me,

And I can wait faithfully,

Because you walk faithful with me,

And I can learn to wait holy,

Because you led a holy life, you lead me,

And I am free,

And I choose you,

I’ll stay and wait,

And my heart will sing out, Kingdom come,

And my mouth will speak out thanks because you’re here,

Your breath is in me,

I look like you,

I’m lost in this waiting,

I’m lost in the grace,

But you know just where I am.

7, 4 Foot, 2 Wheeler

God, I’m asking for a push.

You know the one,

When you’re seven, four foot, and on a two wheeler,

And your father stands behind you at the top of the hill?


The one where you’re not quite used to the feel of your feet on pedals,

Where Abba holds the bike upright so you can position them just right,

But you can’t push off from this ready position,

And without the momentum,



So Abba has to push, and you have to pedal,

And the hill has to sustain you,

And those brakes may or may not work,

They’re not your concern, your concern is going.


And you get that push, and the downhill pulls,

And there you go, you’re flying,

But your hands are on the handles and at this speed,

They’re shaking, wobbly, not used to steering,


One small slip of control- tip,

Only this time you’re fast, and tip could end with a —skid___

And that with a whole lot of ouch.

And the brakes may or may not work.


But I’m okay with that God. I’m not afraid.

Because I sure could end up with two bloody shins,

But I have a healer riding with me,

And even if it’s messy, I crash, it doesn’t work out,


It’s worth the risk to be reaching out.

If it doesn’t work you can set me back on my two wheels,

And I’ll set my two feet up on two pedals,

And the two of us will ride and possibly face dive,

And it’s okay ‘cause we’ll always recover,

And every time I get a little smarter,

And we’ll make a real difference,

And there’s so much we’ll discover,


So God I’m asking for that push.

I’m in ready position, my feet on the pedals,

You’re holding us up,

Now send us out,

Just show me where to fly,

And give me a push,

Open doors and show me how to steer for them,

For you,

Straight for you.