the next great war

that which we cherish,and that which we despise…reside within us…to understand god,we cannot limit his/her presenceto one or the other…but must acknowledge the presencein all!

in a favorite book,too long on the shelf.the memory of your lips,whispering in a languagethat only the wind knew!now your silence betrays…we are the graintoo deep imbedded!the tree itselfcannot remember!the door that wont close,the broken pane in the window.the pot now empty,charred with before!

with no hand to hold against the night,no kindred spirit, no flame of hunger.we speak, there is no answer,only the waiting that sweats & weeps.the formless bound in a thousand faceseach yearning to be held, and named.we who sit at the feet of angels…and drink alone…

stopping to smoke, a cup of coffee,maybe a shot to break the chill…books are only peoplewaiting to be set free from the shelf…people are only spider’s webs,catching tiny fragments of light.and this body a tired prayer,spoken by lips both bruised and shaken.my hand smells too much like alone,but my feet know the way home!

as a stepping stone for others,as the hand that unlocked the cage,as the fire that warmed the stranger,as the food that fed the hungry.as the candle that lit the darkness,as shelter, as the wind thatcried freedom in the darkest night…as a cup of water!

always thinking of the bottom line.and now his benefitshave run out!you’ve got an angryJesus with a gun,and a hungry family,on the streets.black Jesus, white Jesus,brown Jesus, red Jesus…it dont matter,take your pick…he’s standing in your doorway!