Night Season

Night Season yieldsIMG_3039
an interval, a time to peel
away layers, winter clothes
stratified around my being
stripped off in complete
namelessness,
leaving me tender, naked.

Night Season.

It furnishes still space
to be without shape of being,
ego unable to structure
itself around, within my
unformed substance.

In this hallowed dark I release
all that encumbers me
to see your glow, feel the
shine of your precious face
conscious that you matter.

There I watch your hand hold
something so dear, so full of trust,
I fill with Unbearable Light.

Night Season.

You demand of me
what I cannot do alone.
In You I surrender to
Your proposal of radiance.

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Author’s Note:

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September Fever

The cool does not rise high enough.

A fan roosts in the upstairs bedroom
window whirring air inside from
outside’s evening calm. The sun below
my viewpoint allows only a cadet grey
to tint what soon will be a veil
of glistering pinpricks against
a sable tarp.

Here I lie in stillness
except for the roar of motor
grinding on to subdue the remainder
of day’s heat infused into walls
surrounding my dissolution.

I release into slumber.

May your sweet hands hold my light
while darkness enfolds me.

May I leave space for You as
dreams give way to wonder.

May you girdle me upon my rise,
awash in your nucleus of vision,
your bold demand, Your love for me
as I for You and for all.

 

Jacob’s Axis

God lives here. Trembling, my heart falls
into depths so deep, so dark I fear the possibility

of vacancy. Jacob grappled, wouldn’t give in,
paid the price, a chronicle to keep his

axis. God lives here in me. I will not fall
too far, tumble into waves that wrap

their arms choking out my breath. God lives
here in me when dawn takes down night

and consumes my being with her fire. God
leaves no room for war. The voice of God

whispers and even lame-legged Jacob stays
without a wobble. The edge of hatred melts

in the blistering of where God lives. God lives
here in my stillness, where I stand like Jacob,

wounded and cradled in such precious
hands. I know where God lives.

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Author’s Note:

Psalm 46