noise

the noise comes loud the noise comes soft

i cannot stop the noise from deafening

a thousand voices clamoring

for me to be some way

as years increase the decibels match

the demands escalate in step

i'm too much or not enough

but mostly just me

the pervasive lie behind the noise dictates

the change will win for me acclaim

the crowd with love my name

whatever it may be

i wrap a cloak of apathy to shield me from the pain

to try and stay true to my way

resist the camouflage

but it's in vain

passion is pain and life is pain so they say

regardless of the road i take

i must make a stand

choose this day

the way i walk is solitary in this forest dim

i have not found a soul to join

to be unique takes strength

and lonely courage

in the end it's not my choice to shout

i want not my own words

to make some lasting noise

let glory be my voice

the darkest time of year

the birds flee swift 

their sights on sun

the trees shiver bare

their leaves all gone 

to dens beasts shuffle 

and sleep til spring 

my blood runs cold 

at what long nights bring 

I raise my arms

and stretch a strand

small fragile bulbs

from out my hand 

such weak defence 

against a foe

who gobbles day

and makes light go

those twinkling sparks 

remind my heart 

that though it seems 

like all is dark 

time will fly on

and in the end 

the dawn returns 

to rise again 

relentless

I sat in a field and gazed at the sky

watching two birds fly way up high

the small bird dove again and again

fighting a battle he could not win

the hawk barely flinched and soared

the little one’s cries he clearly ignored

I marvelled at the relentless attack

as David flew at Goliath’s back

what desperation could there be

to make him try endlessly

with courage beyond his small size

he rent the heavens with his tries

did somewhere far below the blue

lie a nest with eggs of rosy hue

was this a fight of life or death

protecting those without a breath

risking all against a foe

with every ounce to make him go

while hidden in their little nest

the unborn chicks stayed at rest

just before his strength gave way

two starlings came to join the fray

then for a moment David was gone

somewhere to rest but not for long

with fresh zeal he fought once more

as Goliath continued to soar

against

the edge of my island is always in view

as billows of sea waves roll

and though i am sure of how it's secure

the pounding does take its toll

i've built up my stand with a few sturdy bricks

i sit here in certainty

watching the rest buffet forward and aft

alone it sometimes must be

the thunderous roar of prevailing winds

cannot ever knock me down

though ship after ship sinks right to the depths

i'm safe on the high ground

ironic it is on my sandy shore

that more don't join me here

preferring instead to be tossed all about

while i'm without any fear

no flags fly above the soft golden sands

i'm rather incognito

keeping still as they bellow to another

it's better they don't know

no shame in my snug little peaceful hut

but the storm-tossed can't think straight

seeing just the sea where the next wave may be 

everything else becomes bait

my heart takes courage as my i glimpse in the east 

others who are standing true

i'm not alone in this turbulent night

he has preserved a few

someone once wisely said to pick battles

with kids who are immature

i smile and nod and choose to say not a word 

the world blindly seeks a cure

Sticking Points and Straws

Rich sang "we are not as strong as we think we are" and the adage rings true. Sure, stories of heroism and fidelity abound but in reality we give up quite easily. Superficially commitments may seem cast-iron yet even the most dedicated are probably avoiding working on things that grate one against the other. Many would relish a trip to the dentist rather than tell their boss or their dear friend how much the way they talk to them bothers them. The rugs in the living rooms of our houses are becoming couches with all the avoided issues we sweep under them.

One might ask why when we're all in the same boat, all imperfect, all growing, all deep down wanting to learn how to love better, do we run away from the very thing that would help draw us closer to each other and give us the very thing we desire. The nuanced answer looks different to each wounded heart but I suspect that it's tied to the facet of mistrust: we doubt that when push comes to shove the other person would still choose to press in, to love, to stay with us no matter what.

Those sticking points and straws that break the camel's back are not just spectres that haunt the faces of our loved ones. We all have the metaphorical lines we've drawn in the sand, the things we promise ourselves we would never tolerate. We hide, run, fight, the very ones trying to find common ground because they come packaged in their own imperfections and relational quirks. What if we were the people we desired to know across the table? What if we chose to take a deep breath and not run, not fight, not hide our broken hearts but say in spite of the disappointment, in spite of the aches I will love and I will stay? 

OtR sings, "I will listen long as I am able/There's no place I'd rather be." We were born to love. This world and our brokenness fights the capacity until we give up all too quickly. It's not just fireworks and moonbeams. It's staying the course, holding each other when it's easier to let go. That's who I want to entwine my life with. Daily the temptation comes to just skip it but that's also who I want to be. Past the point of giving up let's find the Reason to stay.