Today

Today, I went to the little, round chapel as I have done many times before... familiar place that almost feels like a womb until I open my eyes and see my surroundings flooded with faces. Here, words hit stones that hit one copper plan that sounded a harsh, strident screech. There, here, in the cave of my thoughts, I craved understanding, to know why I have so often been an audience member to a particular form of violence.

Today, she asked her: Why do I always go into fixing mode when a person displays anger?"
She said to her, who had just been she: "Just notice it; just notice it. And stop the reaction."

Therein the litany of stones creates new meaning. Therein, words that used to were can only was. There, here, I crouch around for it, I believe in it. And she doesn't have to do it alone.

True Dat

In my experience, God is always there,
truly always been there,
already there- long before I even knew anything of Christianity.

But then, when I met my own missionaries,
everything clicked,
all made sense-
yeah, alright.

God is not a theory!
Let me say it louder- to talk to myself:
God is not just a theory.

God is that entity that
pushes me, that's pushing me
even now,
into poignant perhaps preposterous
but precious places.

In my experience,
God is true.
And I adore how that sounds.
The true gracefully
chooses to gaze upon us,
the true allows us to choose
for ourselves--
You can't debate the true-
It's like saying:
"Honey, I got no need to breathe."
Yeah, you can say it,
but everyone knows you're lyin',

In my experience,
God is kind,
immensely, compassionately kind.
And when placed into the equation,
You don't have to say: How did I manage to screw this all up--
because you are no longer responsible to carry all of life's burdens.

In my experience, God encourages us beyong
messiah complexes
into a non-violent martyrdom
that is true freedom, that says like Joseph Campbell:
"Follow your bliss" but with a twist:
"Follow the true bliss"... your true bliss...
You can. It makes me smile. You won't be snatched away..."
Keep it true!

Welcome to Poetry in Church

I grew up in a Victorian house that was given to a woman named Sadie Jones around 1890 for her marriage to one of the Spencer Fishers. As a young child, I came across an old clipping in a newspaper about the house. The clipping described the balcony on the front of the house, and how it was a perfect homey element for the budding poetic. Perhaps this explains me. Or perhaps it is all deeper than this. But, I do know that I have always loved words-- separate, singular, meaning-filled words. I found in them a means to express the precision of my heart and the fuzziness of my mind. And, I knew that they could not be separated from my identity as a Christian. Poems, in fact, do have a place in church. This is my project-in-progress to share, prove, create, and do just this...