Lord help us take on
Taurus untamed
That is your will
By the horns
And let it turn its head
From side to side
Swinging us onto its
Sharply undulating
Back where we will hold on
For life more abundant
Forsaking our comforts
Our convenience and luxury
In the face of those who
Need somebody to be
Your mercy
Your hands
Your feet
The peace of home
To those left out
On the street
Though we know not
Where it will take us
What words you’ll have
Fall from our mouths
What fulfillment
Of needs
We will be
Lord help us ride your will
Far beyond a rodeo
Seven seconds


It is my consistently inconsistent humility that keeps grace in the forefront the blessings for which I am most thankful.
My own selfish arrogance robs successive moments of each one’s opportunity to join together with those in front and behind, letting love be spoken free.
I need to learn to keep my head up, eyes focused on thee, if I’m to let this life be an exhibit of the hope that will find find fruition in eternity.

My Own Folly

The smile on my face does
Not come naturally
Fighting gravity just
To let a hope flare be seen
My attention span once
Fractured as an addict
Unable to then see
Consistently less than
The beauty all
Around my feet instead
This insecurity
A hot-wired
Knee jerk
Ne’er at a loss to fire
A loose cannon volley
Into a midnight sky
Without even a thought
For impending damage
Sure to come in the wake
Of this whim of proclaimed
Short shackle-torn justice
I saw your slight
And raised you
An unbridled
Razor tongue sin
Before clouds of debris
Drifted off leaving me
Free to see
My own


Melt me down
Burn away this
If I could only
Manifest a walk
In the updraft
Of your Spirit
Free from these
Taking flight
My only prayer
It seems is that
By Your grace
The friction
The blessed ideal
And my earthbound
Can offer
As if the product of
A chemical reaction
The focus to endure
The vertigo from
Haphazard lurches
That tie together
Each clumsy


I staggered and lurched
With the start-stop
Grace of a drunkard
A gait with which I
Doubtless whittled hard
Away at my roots
Life spilt out in fits
Expired on the floor

I sought You
In humility
To gather my wits
So that now I can
Fly in a tailwind
Subsequent to a
Wave of true grace
Everlasting in
Spirit permanent

Morning Prayer

I belong to You
As I empty my
Shaking hands
Let all of the chips
Fall where they may
For amongst the dust
That once stirred
Blessings unseen
Will be found around
Though I know not
Their shape or form
I rest assured in
The knowledge that
You know
What I do not
I belong to You


Your words unfolded on a winter timberland
Where even evergreens lost their luster
Any semblance of life was frozen in slumber

A desolate landscape worn down in between
Weathered hardwoods without leaves
A sleet-soaked forest floor without green

For a season not defined by a tilting earth
But maturing perspective on what is worth
And turned by the labor pains of grace’s birth

With nary a prophecy or a sign to be seen
A portion of faith handed down to me
Since planted has yielded blossoms serene

Saturated with the most extravagant colors
Leading us steadily onward and upward
In a glorious green toward eternal spring