Our friendship was born dead.
Born into offenses of the flesh.
Birthed within burning hearts
crying for a tiny fragment
of the tastes
of our young days.
Days bound in sheets
scented and flavored by love making.

On a solo flight long along the longitudinal
Her, his? scouting mission made a stop along this forest openings way.

Low cloudy day gray skies
as a quiet woman planted seed.

Her circling, I'll call her a her,
as we girls keep our eyes on survival at all times,
rounding and then slowing
while her flapping wings settled her in for a landing.
A landing I'm most certain all aviators study.

She called out through the wilderness,
calling every gander and fellow goose,
"I've found this settlement, this safe place,
with gentle whispers of the wind in the pines."

She waited, paddled, then lifted to flight.
Away, she'd made this known.

The day ticked onward, sun rolling down the sky,
clouds swelling thicker, rolling lower into fog.

The gardener girl gazed up from her work,
listening to a cry flying in from the North,
laughing at the new arrivals, two this time,
welcoming them in to this summer home.

It's so easy to lose faith in God
when the men and women who
preach so vehemently
stab knives into your heart,
call you less than worthy.

What was it that made me
so wrong? So less than them?
Was it my Jewishness,
my heritage,
my still learning even from them?

What I learned was they can
hate, wound, laugh at, destroy,
throw a human away.

Why?  Because I am not famous enough?
talented enough?
well known enough?

What does Christ think looking down?
Should I instantly forgive? Even though it makes me feel like dying?
Does Christ instantly forgive them?
Even though they twisted me around
so tightly I didn't have time to learn fast enough?
Will they do it again to someone else?
Would they do it again to me if I gave them the chance?

Why did they even want to walk through my door???
What did they think they would find here?
Why did they get so angry when they didn't get what they needed?
Why didn't they just go in peace?

Dear Lord, Christ, I have known you my whole life
as the God of the Jews.
I have met you in the home of my mother as the Lord Christ.
You have walked with me in my youth,
slapping me in the face with the hand of an evangelist,
you destroyed my foundation and inspired me to relinquish all I knew.

My Christ it is hard to accept you as God
when I have known your Father
for so many more years.
How is it he disguised himself in you, as you?

You have brought to my doorstep
Mystics, poets, great men of vision
only to have them wisked away?
Was it my lack of faith?
My resistance to you?

I believe in you,
but I can not believe in you.
You have shown yourself to me,
but others deny me that.
Was that your blood I saw in the air?
Was that your voice showing me the firmament on the hill side?

My walk with you will be alone
No other gives validity to my understanding of you.
I will walk with you in question,
asking you,
knowing you are there, so many have told me,
believing as your gifts for my life unfold.

Our gentle relation
you've answered all my prayers.

A cascading effluence of seasoned moments
spilling while twirling
neath the light and the heat of sand's sun,
a whipping windstorm blowing sand's grains throughout the land,
coloring the whole world in tiny stones
for to filter our weeping.

You can not come near me here in this oasis of lashing,
razor tongue, razor mind,
you lunge to strike at will then sooth it by some song of coo.
Not one more tear of my flesh will be made by you.

My body stays spinning midst this desert's painful wilderness,
wringing out one inflicted cut, replacing it with a wound more pure.

Never fear boy
your smile radiates until
I will never forget.

Your taunts and lies,
jokes and riddles,
I pocketed them
in my ****** sac
and hoist it over,
heavy with so much
of your confusion
and uncertainty.

You see, my love,
I love you where
memories hibernate,
preserved, mummified
into timeless coffins.

Run your legs
walk them straight,
my shattered heart
still pulses helplessly strong,
ruthlessly onward,
even after you turn your
tender feelings and lay them  
in the arms of another.

A frozen house stilled mid life,
while the lives within shed
blood from a tear mid stride.

hearts stopped beating,
loving strokes suspended mid brush,
her dappling with the voice of another
pulled her love into adultery's pouch.

his seduction cloaked in friendship,
his lie of never leaving,
his deception of his true nature,
he could have known he would never love her.

her home barren of noise of family,
empty, gutted, a winter's frozen shell,
she will lie now in the out lands upon the ground,
freezing alone, unforgivable, a harlot, wishing, hoping for death.