Posted in Poetry, Writing

Home

There’s something
In the air tonight
My thoughts are lost
Somewhere, mid-flight
And I can’t help myself,
It’s like
My thoughts are on their own.
The tremble of a restless sea
Tumbles ashore inside of me
My heart resounds
Relentlessly
I’m all alone tonight

Turned the pillow
To the cold side
I wonder if you do this too
There are so many things
I’d like to know.
Do you wake up every morning
At exactly the same minute?
Mine is 5:13,
And in case you didn’t know –
You always feel like home.

I always smile at take-off
When gravity pulls me down
I guess it must be something
About being off the ground
Something in my soul shifts
A calm that soothes my
Restlessness, but
When I wake up there
It’s never quite like home
So I love coming home

Turned the pillow
To the cold side
I wonder if you do this too
There are so many things
I’d like to know.
How do you like your coffee?
Black or French Vanilla?
Mine’s sweet with cream
And in case you didn’t know –
You always feel like home.

Posted in Life Lessons, Love, Poetry, Truth, Uncategorized, waiting, Writing

In the Valleys

I sat and watched the sky
And the prairie running wild
Up to the mountains.
I watched the blues and reds
Scatter colors overhead –
Night fell around me.
And suddenly a whisper
Came from somewhere
Deep inside:
I’m walking here beside you
I hold every tear you’ve cried,
Just look around – see:
Some things grow better
In the valleys.

And I pondered the past year
And how if He holds every tear
They must fill an ocean.
When I looked up again
The prairie grass in the wind
Stirred up the notion –
That the God who made
The mountains
Is the God who made the seas.
The one who paints the skies
Is the one who painted me,
And peace swept around me –
Some thoughts are deeper
In the valleys.

If my heart ever finds love,
Or if it never does,
It makes no difference.
Please don’t misunderstand
I don’t think it’s in His plan
To be alone forever.
But looking at the mountains
It begins to make some sense
Some mountains are a fortress,
Some a tall, barbed-wire fence.
When He surrounds me –
Sometimes I’m safest in the valleys.

Posted in Lyrics, Poetry, Spoken Word, Writing

3am Random Dream-induced Lyrics

…and she said
I still think I might have
Liked to have a try
But this is really best –
Not being perfect all the time
And when I
Close my eyes I can
Still look up and
See his face
He’s just something
I can’t erase.

Funny thing that happens
Somewhere further
Down the road
One minute she is driving
Listening to what
She doesn’t know
And all the sudden he is
Right there in her mind
And she remembers…
Random things
Like how he said hello.
And how in winter
His boots left patterns
In her car
Or how his
Crazy Aunt Roberta
Still stalks her on Instagram
Or the
Way he made his coffee
Is just how she
Makes her coffee
And the way he held her
Closer than her pillow
Made her
Want to stay in his arms
Forever and a day
But the way he
Acted like they
Weren’t a thing
Drives those memories away

…and she said
I still think I might have
Liked to have a try
But this is really best –
Not being perfect all the time
And when I
Close my eyes I can
Still look up and
See his face
He’s just something
I can’t erase.

She’s getting older now
Her hair is turning grey
She looks out the window
Of her favorite cafe
And there he is
Carrying in the morning paper
And he almost walks
Right by her
When suddenly
A smile becomes his face
So he sits down and
They rejoin the conversation
They had years ago
But this time he has softened
And two hours later
He still lingers
With his hand
Resting softly
With his fingers
Intertwined with hers –
The conversation this time
Feels like
More than just some words

…and he said
I still think I might
Like to have a try
And this is really best –
Not being perfect all the time
All my life I want to
Wake up and see your face
You’re the one
I never could replace.

Posted in Poetry

Unanticipated

Life has its dips and straights.

Sometimes Summer feels more like Spring, sometimes Spring feels more like Winter.

Sometimes the road is paved with love and laughter; sometimes it is washed out by torrents of tears.

When I look back over my life I’ve always known what is right and what is wrong. And I’ve always known that my God is a good God.

I’ve not always chosen the recommended path. I have scars on my skin and my heart as mile markers for the roads to avoid.

Sometimes my silence shrieks while my karaoked daily routine resounds like a symphony.

I’ve come full-circle from where I thought my life ended to where I felt alive again. I stood on the precipice of hope, only to find what I’ve longed for is just out of reach, then gone.

When the straight highway to the great unknown I’ve anticipated takes an unanticipated turn in a valley ahead, and the road bends from an exclamation point into more of a question mark, I will choose to take a moment and ask for this one thing: God, if you’ll give me more of your Holy Spirit and I can feel your presence, then I’ll continue on. I can’t live without the power and the presence of the Almighty. In fact, I won’t.

Lord, fill me with your presence in this valley so I can get to that glorious unknown you have waiting over there for me to inhabit.

You’re a good God. Without you I add up to nothing.

Posted in Poetry, Spoken Word

I Have the Midnight Hues

Ankle deep in the
Mist of my steadfast soul,
I wait,
Follow calm to the
Shore of you
Feel the spray of the
White caps exploding
At my feet, and I
Wonder where you are tonight
Under this shade of
Midnight hues
And candid blues
As the brand new morning
Paused long enough
For us to call,
One to another
Assorted voices clamor
For my focus
Crying out slow
“Come walk the rope that ties
Day to night.
Come balance your soul on this
Line of grey-blurred,
Sorrowed tears.”
And all at once I’m rescued.
Never knew I’d drowned
In reality til I
Surfaced – cold and alone
One careless glance
Swept the horizon
And caught me in its sight
I’m up, up, up
Schooner side and
Awake in its forecastle
Swaying side to side to side
Where will this rescue crew take me?
Home. Or to
Foreign lands?
Glasses in hand I climb
The mast,
And sweep the sea for the
Sight of land,
Of you,
Of us,
Of what is and what once was
Realizing at last that
Sight is the hope of the blind
Blindness is the bastion of love
And love is sustenance
For those who stand
And wait
Ankle deep in the
Mist of an unwavering soul

Posted in heartache, Life Lessons, Poetry, Spoken Word, Truth, waiting, Word, Writing

You can be quiet

The sun slowed down and
Took one last look over the horizon.
It had had a long productive day and
Could finally meander on to
The other side.
Meander.
That’s what my car did –
Steady and slow like the sun.
“I’ve been… feeling really quiet.”
My text whispered through the screen as I
Wiped an unbidden tear.
“You can be quiet it’s okay,”
Came the reply.
I laughed out loud.
I needed to laugh in that moment.
I knew what they meant:
It’s okay to have a quiet moment.
But I’m a word girl and always quickly assess
Multiple meanings words can have
If taken out of context.
Perhaps I need to be quiet more often. Lol.
I’m glad my friends get my
Inappropriate laughter.
Even via text.

The truth is
I have not shut up lately.
Not with my friends.
For context I’m naturally
Quiet, especially
Around people I don’t know.
But when I trust you
I lay my soul bare.
And do so often.

But the truth is –
I need to be quiet.
I need to take a step back and
See things as they truly are.
The truth is:
I’ve been walking in
A daydream for far too long.

I need to regroup and refocus.

This blog is meant to meander.
Like the sun.
Like my car.
Like my thoughts.
To make you, reader,
Pause.
“Be quiet.
And in the quiet – be still
And in the stillness – rest
And in the rest – listen.”

That is wisdom from one of my favorite pastors.

Quiet doesn’t always happen
In the dark, or
In depression.
In fact, the best quiet times I have
Are in the light of a brand new day when I
Sit outside with a cup of morning
And a copy of my favorite book
And just breathe it in.

So…
Meander. Be quiet. Breathe.
Thanks for letting me be transparent and vulnerable
While my thoughts find their
Rest on this page.

Rest well.
Goodnight.
I love you.

Posted in heartache, Love, Poetry, waiting, Word, Writing

What Do I Know of God?

It’s days like these
When my heart is broken
It’s days like these when my
Mind is obscured
It’s days like these
When all l know is
Nothing feels like I think it should

It’s days like these
When my arms are lonely
When my eyes are cracked
From tears
It’s days like these when
You remind me
You have always been here

And really…
What do I know of kindness
What do I know of faithful
What do I know of
Trustworthy and pure

What do I know of sacred
What do I know of sacrifice
What do I know of
Working all things for my good
What do I really know
God, what do I really know

It’s nights like these
I sit in silence
Wondering what else I can do
It’s nights like these
My mind just wanders
In and out of half-lies and half-truths
It’s nights like these
That make me weary
That I wind up on my knees

And you remind me,
You remind me…

That you’re the
Author of kindness, the
Creator of faithful, the
Painter of
Trustworthy and pure

You alone are sacred
You gave yourself as my sacrifice
You work all things for my good

What do I really know
God, what do I really know