loneliness (in concrete form)

loneliness

i run my fingers
slowly
along each petal
the delicate surface
bending and bowing
beneath my skin
i wonder at the vulnerability
of the moment as
i begin to bleed
an unseen thorn
piercing my soft flesh
drawing life away
from my body
but i know
there cannot be
this beauty without
this ache
missing something
losing something
wanting something
i can never have
and i find
being
lonely
can
be

exquisite

“And it was just a few years ago that I finally realized that friendship is not a remedy for loneliness. Loneliness is a part of our experience and if we are looking for relief from loneliness in friendship, we are only going to frustrate the friendship. Friendship, camaraderie, intimacy, all those things, and loneliness live together in the same experience...” ~Rich Mullins

In memorium: Inconvenient Death

The sun is setting here, it’s dying rays glowing on my face. My living, breathing face. For I am still alive and I’m thinking of you, gone.
You weren’t a close friend, by any means. Our lives had long since gone separate ways. So grief would not be the correct description of the emotion churning within me. No, puzzlement comes closest to defining it. Feeling confused because I cannot understand or make sense of your death.
If you were here, in this still room watching the sunset with me I would ask about those last moments. You, in the small trailer, perhaps with your arms around the man you had at last found. Hearing the storm pounding, the pieces of debris hitting the walls harder than an angry man can throw. They say the sound of a tornado is like a freight train coming straight at you.
Did you hear the sound? Did you think, “This is it. The end.”?
Did you feel fear of judgment on poor decisions? I hope you made your peace with God.
Did you wonder at the inconvenience of it all? I mean, you had sacrificed some ideals to get what you wanted desperately. So much must have seemed like it was finally going your way. Even if you were doing things you might now regret.
Did you ask God, “Why now? When everything is finally starting to work out?”
My way. Perhaps therein lies the key. His timing puzzles me but that is because I see things my way and His ways are not my ways. Nothing is inconvenient when seen from His perspective. Even death.
Every life, every relationship is meaningful. I must accept the nature of the relationship today, rather than hope for a tomorrow that may never come.
Every day I have the choice to choose Him, or my own selfish desires. But my way only ends in death, yet still in His timing.
Every task He gives is important. Rather than wait for success and accolades that lie in a nebulous future, I must put my hand to the grindstone and serve with joy.
Every moment is an opportunity to see beauty. Merely a training ground for eternity.
What do you see?

costly transformation

you shake your head
and turn to leave
words hover
to call you back
but pain
behind my eyes
rising from the wounds
you cannot see
blinds me
so I remain dumb
nurse the slow drops
with awkward swathes

maybe next time
you will stay here
real commitment
or not

how can I demand
what I refuse to give?

the wild blue yonder

we sit

poised at the edge

the runway grey outside
the engines whine
trembling roar through my spine
then released
like a stone thrown
we gather speed
hurtling toward a dead end
the wheels shaking my body
until

with a lurch

(like breaking through)
we jump
airborne
the bumps immaterialize
light feeling shivers through
as a smile creeps upon my face
out the plexiglass
fields fade to quilts
twisting and bumping
we dance through the clouds
until the whine becomes
a purr of gliding

flying away

jousting with words

The man hobbled up a street. Urchins passed him, paying the attention a river pays a twig. His eyes blazed clear, belying his weak demeanor.
(140 characters exactly)

His hand dropped to his side. “I see. Then there’s no use arguing, I suppose.”
She shook her head but her hand stayed steady. “No.”
(131)

my friend callie

the other night as i lay in bed i was thinking about the games we play with people. when we can approach them, how to approach them, all the intricate contortions through which we put ourselves in order to (hopefully) not offend, and thereby preserve the relationship. and then i thought of my friend callie.
she most likely will never read this so i thought to wax eloquent on how privileged i am to know her.
callie is generous. she shares her chocolate, her clothes, her car, her bed (in a good way), her time, her money (which is not much, i know!), her food. and she never makes you feel that she wants something in return or that your request is a burden. i know that at any time i could go knock on her door--even wake her in the middle of the night!--and she would be quick to want to respond.
callie is direct, and values open communication. this not always being my strongsuit (i must admit i do use inference and hints quite a bit, but you would have to know me pretty well to know that!) it has taken some time for us to work past our different confrontation styles. but i know that she will tell me when something is bothering her. and she will not be content with lies or hypocrisy. this means you can know, really know, where you stand with her and not have to approach her as if a bomb were about to explode and for the life of you you can’t remember if it was the red or the green wire (and of course, in the back of your mind is the sneaky suspicion that you are color-blind!).
callie is a great cook, decent seamstress, extroverted, the life of the party, as well as a host of other things (hey, maybe i should write her a match.com profile! j/k).
anyway, in a world where the dance steps are too often missed and the music can seem out of tune, i am privileged to be friends with an amazing woman of God who can sing on key.