Caught in a crevasse,

In the lows between

Two rogues.

Who directs these,

And how am I here?


This ocean cannot be

Fathomed as the

Heavens cannot

Be crossed.

To whom do I belong?


The temptation is to jump.

Man overboard, Man

Over bored.

Whether Jesus lays asleep

In the hold,


Or walks on the water’s

Lips, arms out,

Out of the pseudo safety

Of a lifeboat.

Is there any question now?

Come With Me

I’m heading out,

another Sunday slouch,

a church mouse.


Won’t you come with?

Sit next to me,

and we’ll pray.


Stand, and songs

will be sung,

harmony hung.


We’ll open the Book

of macro stories

of micro beings.


We will see

each other as trees.

I climb you,


You let me.

You limb trim me,

and I grow.


Sit next to me God,

don’t let me be,

and I’ll scooch nearer.