Thursday, March 26, 2009

How could that ever be?

Believing you're are not wanted
is like believing the Earth
does not want the Sun…
is like believing the Sun
does not want the Wind…
is like believing the Wind
does not want the Rain…

Believing you're are not wanted
is like believing laughter
is not wanted…
is like believing dancing
is not wanted…
How could that ever be?
How could that ever be?

Sunday, March 1, 2009

I would miss the Birds

I would miss the birds…

These diminutive creatures that so briefly rest
upon the holly tree outside my window;
they are many, their song is brave,
yet they are as tiny as a baby’s breath.
As I watch them dart from branch to branch,
my heart is calmed, my tears cease
and I know this one thing:
if I were to die in this moment I would miss the birds.

Something about them gives me hope;
mighty beyond their size, mighty because of their size.
So much life – a heart beating fiercely
inside a chest the size of a walnut.

Crying and bird watching are not conducive.

Tears slow the speed required to track each swift and precious movement;
the impish tilt of a head, the blink of a shimmering eye,
the fervent dance among the holly…

And then they are gone,
but not;
they leave behind them the testimony of God;
for only God could conceive of such a thing as these
magical creatures whom, on silent wings,
glide easily through my window
to nest within my heart.