Of Bones and Anger

Then, I saw them
dust assembled into hands like bone; flaking, cracking and falling apart.
as they were moving and stretching
I saw a finger dissolve and wither away while groping around,
looking for someone to scare and deceive.

I saw these hands move
and hover near those I call dear
"the hands of death have lost their luster"
I whispered, as anger began to gather

Then, they came burning from my mouth
words wafting like smoke
billowing and filling the room.
"oh, death where is it?
where has it gone?
the terror of which you told
the fear you claimed to hold
has that power withdrawn?
oh, death where is it?"

these words like wind
quiet as a breath
shattered those feeble bones.

i watched as they
withered quietly away
returned to dust
and departed quickly from me
leaving their embers cold
never to see fire again

what was left was nothing more
than three fingers and a wrist

and it was then that it overflew from me
i lunged and seized that misanthropy
i clenched it in my fist
and it felt not
like the cracking of bone
but like the grinding of sand
that dust became mist
and fell to the floor beneath my feet

...

you have trespassed
and with my eyes wide open
i see your shrunken form
devoid of shape
it lacks anything that lasts

Oh, goliath
how pitiful you've become

run and hide
these eyes are wide open
you have no time to bide

shrink back in terror
these eyes are open

your strength is gone
and in its place
only emptiness

these eyes wide open
see the earth shake
and watch you tremble

feel your ears deafen
and your eyes go blind
from the thunder exploding
and the lightning screaming over your head

i see it clearly
the gallows holding your head
and a people set high above you
on the tops of mountains

even when the tide rises
even when the storm rages
even when the night darkens
we stand on mountains
unshaken and unmoved

your time has long since past
be still and accept defeat

The Nature of Loss and My Brain

I sat alone, staring at the tiled floor beneath my feet as the thought finally hit me, “I miss you."

It has been more than a couple weeks since someone near and dear to me has passed away, and today is the first time this thought has crept into my brain.

This person was my aunt and she is survived by a husband and 3 children. There is no way I would ever be so selfish as to presume that my missing of her should ever take precedence over her immediate family.

Even so, I sat with my family, I watched movies and boatloads of food be bused into my dad's house all day by other families who just wanted to help. I ate, they ate, and we all gained 5 pounds in those days.

I was sad, but not because of my own loss, if it can be called that. 

I was sad, scared and felt utterly lost for my family who was immediately affected. 

Days passed, then weeks and now, finally, I can see hope beginning again in my mind, and returning to the faces of everyone around me. Hope for their own lives, hope for today, hope for the future. 

This might have been all that I needed, a prerequisite to be satisfied before I could think that "I miss you".

There is hope, and my family will persevere, which is why, without tears, without pain, but with a slight longing, 

I think in a whisper: "I miss you".

For Those Who Walk

Circumstance tries to dictate that what we've been dealt is defeat
But as I hear His laugh reverberate from the throne
Whispering in the winds and rattling the mountains
I hear only victory.

Not even in death is there defeat.

As we gather, Your fire stirs
The ground begins to shake
and the earth, removed.

No pain
No hurt
No grief
Can stand up
to Your mighty name.

I wear this fire
like the clothes on my back.
Nothing will douse Your love, Your grace

Not pain
Not hurt
Not grief
Not death.

This ‘mountain’ before us is merely a mound of sand
That will flatten under the weight of [ Y ]our arrival.

Earth movers
Ground shakers
Mountain splitters
and Giant slayers
Be not silenced

But fill the air
With praise
And the sky
With fire.

Candle

The room is dark
seemingly empty.
there is twitching
enchanting light.

purposely positioned
on the only object
visible in this room

centered.
it jumps
glides
pours itself
over the edges

cascading light
weaved
into the darkness.

shadows jump
dart
and pulse
about the room.
running
and hiding

each twitch
reveals
and hides
parts of this room

a literal struggle.
light
dark

war is waged
for sight
and blindness

between
illumination
and shadows.

Like Glass

how do we carry on when our lives are knocked to the floor, shattered like glass, consequently scattered and the pieces never to be assembled again.
scraping and trying to discern what pieces fit back together, while we find that we're missing too many pieces to make this life look the way it did before someone took it and knocked it off the shelf.
we're all made of the thinnest glass possible, we just guard the glass differently.
placed on higher shelves, encased in glass boxes or stowed away where no one will find it.

what do we do when we pick up that shattered glass, but throw it away.
if we cherished what is now the shattered remains, we might hold off for a bit,
but in the end we know it's useless to keep the pile we've brushed together.
which of us melts that glass and molds the pieces back together?

how do we carry on

Not Too Vast

We've crossed many plains, we've watched the sun rise and set.
We chased it as far as we could before being outrun and exhausted by the chase.
We've scaled mountains, climbed trees and swam across tranquil lakes that act as the mountain's mirrors.
We've counted stars as we tried to fall asleep
and kept wishes secret from each other as we watched stars streak across the sky.

We've crossed this planet vast
and we've crossed it together.

On Taming Tongues

The hardest thing about shutting up
will always be
swallowing my pride
and letting silence speak instead of me

silence won't always look golden
but words already spoken
can never be silenced

what i cast in impure metal
will never be gold

what should be said
rarely sees the light of day

while what should never
see the light of day
pollutes the air

What is my strength
and what do my words matter?
when i say absolutely nothing
in the loudest voice

all i spit
only repulses, creates disharmony
and sprays on all those around me

building nothing but rust
debilitating and destroying

so cast me down
and take my speech

I'd rather be force fed meaningful silence
than gorge myself with meaningless words
that only get thrown up on those nearest me

let my silence make others golden