For the guidance,
in this interesting
adventure,
you took my hand,
despite the flaws,
and easy corruptions

found this grace,
a special place,
that only you can
give

an awakening towards the invisible,
a sacred rhythm
of infinite
virtue

you've seen the beginning
and will see the end

a father of infinite wisdom,
and giver of good things

why should we be blinded to the good,
and be deceived
into the darkness,
awaken your minds
the third eye,
an old forgotten
Way

For breath, for belonging

Shalom, Abba,  
not just peace,  
but the kind that wraps  
around my weary shoulders  
like morning light.

You are the quiescence
between my questions,  
the stillness 
beneath my striving.

Abba, Father,  
not just parent,  
but the pulse  
that steadies me  
when I forget my name.

You walk with me  
through shadowed rooms,  
through spirals of doubt,  
and still you whisper,  
I am here.

Shalom, Abba,  
in your breath  
I find my own.  
In your silence,  
I remember  
I am not alone.

Until my work is done,  
until my last sigh sings,  
I will walk  
in your peace.

Ode, two odes,  as grey
As black,  due, I two
Eye polar, this Jude
There Docktaire,  volitiuos
Voltaire.   Reed to mein
Let Miss end Thorpe
B/c I will,  two your corpse.

I ever seen
was
just born smaller
than anything
I could hold comfortably
cried out loud
healthily
grew up to be beautiful
independent
not ever knowing
how I felt then
my bad
I want to go back
change every day
to let her know
but I can't

Think not of it, sweet one, so;---
      Give it not a tear;
Sigh thou mayst, and bid it go
      Any---anywhere.

Do not lool so sad, sweet one,---
      Sad and fadingly;
Shed one drop then,---it is gone---
      O 'twas born to die!

Still so pale? then, dearest, weep;
      Weep, I'll count the tears,
And each one shall be a bliss
      For thee in after years.

Brighter has it left thine eyes
      Than a sunny rill;
And thy whispering melodies
      Are tenderer still.

Yet---as all things mourn awhile
      At fleeting blisses,
E'en let us too! but be our dirge
      A dirge of kisses.

There's a penny for every sob story,
and a dime for every winner.
A dollar for the tax collector,
and Benjamin pays himself.

But you, my friend, are forgiven,
forget toil and bore;
where you lounge on laurels,
others hunger for more.

There's nonsense in fiction,
truth in law.
But law guarding fiction:
the beast's toothy maw.

You write the laws, my friend,
you are the fiction and truth,
you are the red hand,
you are the beast's jagged tooth.

On and on, the mercy rolls
Are you winning?
Check the polls!
Is it fiction?
No one knows,
but the crown drapes from your head,
to your toes.

Life worms its way into your moth holes...
99 problems; 101 dalmations: you do the math.
You plug the holes with your fingers;
end up with no hands to stop the flood.
That empty feeling lingers,
so does the blood.

Everything's shot to cheese,
but the truth isn't cheesy.
You beg for no mercy,
but you don't say please.

In the end, there's no mention
of how you were spared.
Dare to infract again,
only devils have dared.