If Sunday never ended

if Sunday never ended
I know just what id do
I'd spend more time in bed
holding you, listening to the rain
When worship was all over..
we would have supper on the stove
sitting on the sofa, reading something for fun
you are in the next room, singing some old hymn
the planets in their orbits, the world keeps spinning on
but we would hardly notice, lost in our own design
if Sunday never ended, i know just what id do

Simmering

not feeling quite so much like a fish out of water these days. still missing my MF, but hanging in there. the sky is so blue today it makes your eyes hurt. Fall is a tuff time...more transitions. Its good to be back with colleauges, but I am still struggling with a feeling of disconnect...I want so much to get on my motorcycle and go...just head off to the countryside; with no particular place in mind..just a place and space to let all my thoughts and feelings simmer. Have you ever felt like a song...."words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup"...sometimes thats all I can hear. Be at peace.

well, ive landed for now...back at seminary. expected to be in Africa by now, but like the song says, "You can make a perfect plan and see it all, unravel". Ive been in that place before...you think I would learn not to make plans, not to expect that things will work out the way I thought they would. rather, I should expect the unexpected, change is the only constant, surprise its favorite haunt. better get to unpacking...again. I grow weary of moving...but alas, such is the life of a gypsy!

This is a rather dark poem, written when I was struggling with a relationship
It reveals to me how tough love can be.


Numb, blank darkness, closing in
cold pain, ache that gives no rest
prison walls give no light
hope does not spring eternal here
water pouring out
filling the pail that sits at my feet
running over onto the ground
puddles round my toes
salty streams down my face
stings the place I cut myself shaving this morning
no sound,
save the dripping of my tears

how many times have I picked up the phone
or started to write
too many, I have lost track today
sleep comes easy now
though it is haunted by swirling dreams
like thread unraveling from a spool
I try to grab it, but it snakes from my grasp
I stagger and stumble chasing after it
words fail and I collapse on their brokenness
I wake and remember how real, feels