Between the Lines

I reached out and You touched my cheek
there amongst the mortar and ground rattled explosions.
Fear and darkness threatened my heart longed vision.
Chaos ensued as I tried to cover my face,
needing protection from mine filled steps.
The odor of what was, lay all around me.
Death filled fragments of those who walked beside me,
intimidated my existence, shadows lingered.

I reached out and You took my heart
there amongst the smoke filled air.
It was hard to breathe; I struggled to inhale fresh beginnings.
Gasping brought an anxiousness that filled me until I was numb
and consumed with a need to survive.
Threads intertwined and began to wrap and weave
themselves around each of my chamber’s veins
in such a way that the rhythmic pounding replaced fear with peace.

I reached out and You took my hand
dragging me out of the black hole that held light captive.
Clinching and clawing my way through the tunnel of grief and sorrow
You brought me to a place where
an enlightened knowledge provision told me I was not alone.
Courage found freedom surviving within the shadows.
Your hands graven with my name, released me
into chainless beams that climbed mountains, never to be forsaken.

I reach out and You are there.


Faith Filled Promise

Hate, betrayal, deceit
Love, compassion, forgiveness,

Interpretation of dreams given,
guided and directed amongst familiarity
Honor in colors, motivation driven.

A promise to fulfill
Brothers seeking superiority and security
Seek their own will.

Held in a pit of jealousy and fear
Where’s the eldest?
Never alone, God is near.

A connected life, chained and sold
A father who weeps
A heart grows old.

Overturn of brothers brought
Deceit and lies
Never hidden from God, son not forgot.

Prison release, time and protection
Empowered with dreams told
Walked amongst other’s inspection.

Guidance given in thirteen years
Learning to serve
Through hard work, heartache and tears.

Time didn’t erase a brotherly death deed
God remembered sin
Cautioned and warned with heed

No revenge directly sought
For a brother’s life given for another
God’s merciful preservation brought.

Brother’s evil intentions didn’t protect
but God found a way
to preserve descendants and family connect

A promise kept
Forgiveness given
Grace found in colors wept.


Genesis 41-47


Did You know that I would choose a path filled with chaos and confusion?
Many dark days and nights filled with anxiety, fear and delusion.

A need for control, only my way,
not stopping long enough to know what You would say.

At a table, meant for two and You,
One seated, seeking and needing to pursue.

Clouds of selfish want, hung overhead,
as I opened the pages and listened in silence with shame-filled dread.

Stories of people who wondered about, doing things their own way,
blaming you, pointing a finger on a trial-filled day.

All alone, confused and lost
Anxious and fearful, no presence, their cost.

Unfaithful and distrust shown in so many ways
Looking back now, it was known in the words they prayed.

Grace given, and yet not seen
In fields of promises, ripened green.

Did You know they would chose a path filled with chaos and confusion
Dark days and nights filled with anxiety, fear and delusion.

All alone confused and lost
Anxious and fearful, no presence, my cost.

Unfaithful and distrust shown in so many ways,
Looking back now, it was shown in the words I prayed.

Grace given, and now I see
The fields of promises are meant for me.

In a Measure

In a measure of minutes, hours and days
A lifetime moves in so many ways
Roads traveled, dusty and rough
Smoothing out edges, leaving interior, with not enough.

In a measure of minutes, hours and days
Doors open and close in so many ways
Locks and keys, snug and tight
Release a lever, leaving a new vision sight.

In a measure of minutes, hours and days
Two worlds collide in so many ways
Exposure and security, sought and found
Hands held, steps took, sunset bound.

Eighty Grit

Layer by layer, time told
Stained, varnished and age-old
Grains covered and held secure
Knotted and gnarled, finished mature

Dusting, cleaning, continuous motion
forward, backward, consuming notion
Rough grit, slowing cleanse
Caution needed, gouging wins

Direction of grain, shows the way
light and dark, given day
Spiraled and wound,
Spirit filled center found.

Inchoate Understandings


Amongst the splinters,
businesses and homes beyond repair,
glimmers of what was, resided there.

Couch and television remained
covered with wire, metal and wood;
A reflection of a once held life, as it stood.

Playing cards and game pieces,
photographs of children and family long ago,
strewn amongst the tornado stricken show.

Pieces of glassware and china,
scattered amongst cement blocks,
books, computers and mantel clocks.

In an instant,
a collapse of what life use to be,
no longer four walls that brought families to safety.

Working to recover and sort,
hands of many workers unknown
hoping to give tornado survivors one more glimpse of home.

A few belongings returned to a past and present held
a new understanding of what was and will be
are forever held within the hearts and souls of friends and family.



Time inspires all living questions
to be in a past, a today and a tomorrow.

Knowers understand
change occured in moments gone by

Sowers plant
seeds acting upon inquiry driven thoughts

Seekers propel
through discovery while they advance faithfully

Time completes all living questions
in a past, a today and a tomorrow.


Webster Definition

Rube definition according to Webster: awkward unsophisticated person
Unsophisticated definition according to Webster: unchanged, uncorrupted

I used to be an awkward unsophisticated person
Life seen through rose colored glasses
Each fragment a part of a whole
Each whole a part of more than I could ever imagine
Always a daisy type of life
You know the one where
each petal grows from a circular and centered beginning
Love regardless of hate would always win
Renewal regardless of destruction grew despite the odds
Hope in the unseen carried always by faith
A purpose filled passing to others
to never give in to change that tarnishes and discolors the vision seen.

Yet today….I feel changed and corrupted…
Struggling to remain unchanged and uncorrupted enough
To still see hope filled daisys through rose colored glasses

I weep for our children who have the right to grow
and be an awkward unsophisticated person.


Journals Tell Secrets

Spiral bound,

blue lined pages,

heartfelt words written with color;

neatly penned large clear print

or small teeny tiny scribblings,

conveying the tone of the day

in a way that an observant reader

can connect together

peace or confusion,

excitement or anxiety,

love or hate.

Over time, those words

will be found by others.

What message will they send?

Will they know your thoughts

or think they understand?

Will you care what your words convey?

Is there something you words need to say?

Or do you want them disposed of,


that on days long ago

spiral bound,

blue lined pages

helped life to continuously flow.



Wait for It

Words measured and sifted
to a point of singleness.
Each letter joined to another
until the right sounds and meaning appear.
Each syllable fills a space
with a glimmer of light and yet vast darkness.
Will there be enough
to satisfy the hunger of the recipient?
Will the craving for more occur
to the point of simultaneous productions?
Silent words…
tardy words…
can be the worst sometimes.