the skeleton tree

brown and bare
against the pale blue sky-

a skeleton of what you were.

your branches curled like fingers

that had given up reaching, 

reaching, 

reaching.

and tearing, tearing,
they have torn
all the life like meat
from your wooden bones.

orange and red-
your radiant robe,
spread beneath your feet.

brown and bare-
alone.
what have you done?

the pale blue sky looks down
and looks away
and you
fall
into sapphire night.

how to drown

In the ocean of your faithfulness,
I'm sinking into trust,
Though stormy seas can steal my peace,
All trembling and tossed.

I'm learning how to drown myself
And let you take my place.
Pierce my darkness with your sunlight,
Take my depths to heights of grace.

unfolding

I would be a flower unfolding,
Palms wide open,
But I'm trapped inside the bud.

Afraid to bloom,
To leave the tomb,
My palms are red with blood.

But you can see
The rose in me
And open what was closed.

My shame is gone
And I am strong
In the garden of your love.

pilgrim

I'm a pilgrim in the backseat
As the miles stretch endless on.
And I cry out, "Are we there yet?"
As I search the scape for home.

Restless, relentless, child of fear-
"How much longer?" still I squeal.
And my Father simply smiles at me,
And firmly grips the wheel.

I'm a child who has to be carried-
But my Father's arms are strong.
And by His strength He'll guide me
Through the journey safely home.

foreigner

Some days I feel like a foreigner-
Lost in my own skin,
And I don't have a language
To express the things within.
I wander through the marketplace
And hold no currency,
I wander through a the empty days
A ghost of what was me.

Some days I feel like a foreigner-
Lost in my own mind,
The echo of a distant chorus
Tossed upon the wind.
And I don't know which way to go,
But if I meet your ear,
I'll find someone who speaks my tongue,
Who understands this fear.

Some days I feel like a foreigner-
Lost inside this world
But you are not a stranger,
No, you hear my every word.
I came into your marketplace
With trembling, empty hands.
You filled me with your glorious grace-
This is my native land.

path

Battered by waves,

Let my poems be a path-

A boat on the sea

Of what's in between us.

An ocean of words,

Mighty waters to sail,

Then I'll set you safe

On the shore of my soul.

change

Everything is about to change.