The Gathering

You don’t know who you are,
you don’t where you’re from,
you don’t know why
you live to do what you do.

It has been said there are some,
a very few, who watch,
who know,
who understand.

Seek them out,
and once you find them,
you will find the answers
many have died to protect.

You will solve the mystery
to the greatest query of them all:
there can be
only one.



Every morning
we wake up,
greeted by a dawn
we can’t control.

Yet the beauty
of sunrise
is anticipated,

Perhaps morning
is a reminder
of our lack
of control.

Perhaps we too much
for control,
even after sunset.

Shall we celebrate
our freedom
from choices
we don’t have to make?

Shall we anticipate
the beauty
in all around us
to simply be?

Selective Light

My family are the stars,
each in exile
from the sun’s grasp,
from the sun’s light
singing of how it can
save me.

But the light is a lie,
a story fed to babes,
repeated by children,
to make them feel

But the light is a lie,
a mask worn
even by those
still working to convince

But the light is a lie,
pattering with distortions
only seen
through the glass
from the outside.

My family are the stars
too dim to find,
but their influence
must be,
for I can’t be
the only one.

Perhaps they abstain
from shining bright
in sadness
for the lying light
that professes how much
it wants to hold me
but only
if I accept its truth.

Perhaps they abstain
from the shining light
in sadness
for their brother or sister
who lost the way
and walks astray
in the darkness,
clinging to itself.

Perhaps they abstain
from the shining light
and how it wishes to save me,
while we gaze at each other,
and I wish to save those
who in their desperate hour
allowed the light
to blind them.

There And Here (Beyond)

What do I feel?
I don’t know.

What does that mean?
Is love not there?
Is love not here?

And in the absence of love,
what fills me,
if anything fills me
at all?

God is love,
so where is God?

Where is meaning?
Is faith not there?
Is faith not here?

And in the absence of faith,
can I fear
what isolates my soul
from life?

God is hope,
so where is hope?

Or am I beyond hope?
Am I beyond faith?
Am I beyond love
or the capacity to love?

What do I mean?
I don’t know.

Am I beyond knowing?

Or is it all there,
floating before me?

Is it beyond my reach?
Is it all brushing my fingertips
as I strain and struggle for it?

Will it not all come to me
while my silence screams need?

Or am I beyond need?

Will God not come to me?
Is this why the Devil hates God?

If God is love,
is the Devil hate?
Or is the Devil simply…



I’d cry if I could be sad,
shout if I could be mad,
expect something different
if different wasn’t always
the same.

I’d sing a tearful song,
hold a note just as long
as I can hold a smile
that means nothing to me
or you.

When the day comes ‘round
light is no longer found
in a world where darkness
sits atop its frozen throne
and calms,

That is when this gaze will find
another soul of like mind
and prove wrong the notion
that the end of all time is
too late.

If A Me Falls…

When I’m alone
and I talk,
with no one around
to hear,
am I really talking?
Am I saying anything?
Do my words exist?
Or are my utterances
forever lost
to a climb into a sky
that only grows colder
the more it concedes
to a natural vacuum?

Observing The Same Cratered Moon

I see in the mirror
a bizarre broken half,
bizarrely split
in smooth, silk glass

We reflect a touch
yet deflect the spell
wishing to break us
from our personal Hell

For if Heaven sent
a beauty to be
in mind and spirit
to set us free

We should rejoice,
welcome chance,
live for the day
and elusive dance

While all focus
holds firm on thee:
a glint, a smile
for limits set free

As every star
in eternity’s embrace
shines its light
in honor of your grace

In mind’s eye
an evanescent dream
seeks to demise
a heart in scream

I’ve only seen
love go horrible and sour,
become one-sided
or neither-sided and cower

So your hesitance reflects
my mirror of you
or your mirror of me,
of that I confuse

However we sit
in what’s real and not,
our hope resides
in the lack of rot

Is this truly why
our distance remains,
to be sure love stays
an everlasting domain?

Generations On Notice Everywhere

When God truly tires
of our travesties
spitting in the face of Love

The wars.
The deceit
The starving
in the street.
The pain
we inflict
to profit
from the sick.

Ignoring need.
Inexhaustible greed.
The laughter
while others die.
Indifference shown
to those who weep
as they say

When God truly tires

Those selfish first
will be taken last.
Extravagant parties
will be long past.
Expensive garb
tear and shred
as repentance mires
in burning beds.

But the rest will not rejoice,
celebrate ruin,
or take pleasure
in pain reeking of sin,
for only evil is evil
and only evil
commits evil
against their sleeping fellows.

When God truly tires,
then will unleash
another flood,
and all will be wiped
from existence,
for this time
there will be no warning.