Barefoot Against the Tide

Gratitude still prevails
as waves ebb and flow,
keeping our heads above water
in the midst of torrents

as the calendar turns pages,
once, twice, thrice;

faith, a life preserver
in the middle of an ocean
of chaos,

then, the sun, the Son
moves and these bare feet
feel a trickle of hope
in the calm after the storm.



Grandma always said
you never appreciate things
until they go missing
like her favorite scissors
or a spare thimble.
I shook my head in agreement,
my 10 year old self half confused,
half disinterested,

but tonight, the realization came
as the Jags came back to win
in the second half
and I was ready to discuss
but you weren’t here,
the new recipe was a hit
but the ingredients
didn’t make your mouth water
this time.

True hearts are hard to come by.
So is someone who reads every poem I write,
celebrates every victory,
dresses every wound with kind words.

This heart is a little less warm tonight,
and the sky is a little less foggy.

**for a friend on the mend



That one wildflower
in the field
with a crooked stem,
petals languishing,
surrounded by rows
of unwavering,
indistinguishable specimens
of beauty.

It’s all a blur now
except this vision of you;
the prize at the end
of a crooked path.


The Message

The most beautiful name
ever spoken,
the most powerful message
to be shared;
Unpopular words
in the eyes of a crowd.
So complex, yet so simple
that a broken world
should believe in a Savior
rejected, bruised and crucified
to save our skin;
to guarantee our eternity.
A world turned upside down,
truth called lies,
lies proclaimed as truth
and the loved, suddenly
become unloveable
because the truth hurts.


Regardless of Shadows

Following your bare feet
in gardens
through waterfalls,
to the depths of valleys;

they never sleep.

From the crib to the casket,
they hover
in anticipation of a fall.

Open your curtains
to a golden morning,
yellow tulips on the windowsill,
arms reaching for the skies,
to sing away the darkness.

Breathe in
and exhale fear

until all that follows you
is the light-
beaming love

from your own silhouette.

The Trouble With Dandelions

Their eyes wander away
when the words get too obscure
for scientific minds
skeptical of things unseen.
They say, that’s the trouble
with dandelions-
they turn into fluff
with no proof they existed.

Focusing on the facts,
they miss a thousand feathers
in flight,
each one dancing
to another miracle
experienced only by those
who will listen.