To My Best Friend

.  i know you’re faithful
.                                              across all distance
.                 you’re with me in spirit
.  but i yearn
.                        for so much more
.          i yearn
.                        to hug you
.                                              and rest my head on your shoulder
.                        to walk by your side
.                                               with the sand between our toes
.                        to hike with you
.                                               through countless trees
.                                                                                        and listen to the birds
.                        to talk about everything
.                                                                     and nothing
.                                                                                        over a cuppas
.                        to laugh at the unspoken
.                        to rest in shared silence
.  but until that day
.                        when i can look you in the eye
.                                      i’ll wait
.                                                     in the tension
.                                                                                 of endurance and expectation
.                                                     until i can be with my best friend
.                                                                                          my Immanuel

Not a Fool, but a Friend

Not a sunset, but a star

Not a flower, but a field

Not an icepick, but an influence

Not a shrug, but a shoulder

Not a burden, but a Barabbas

Not a problem, but a priority

Not a molehill, but a mountain

Not an agenda, but an adventure

Not a project, but a partner

Not a client, but a confidant

Not a sidekick, but a Samwise

Not a question, but a quest

Not a season, but a saga

Not a holiday, but a home

Not a prescription, but a preference

Not an option, but an opal

Not a puzzle, but a poem

Gone for Good

The bond that time and distance will not sever
now is pulling on my fragile heart,
but you have gone for good, not gone forever.

For I cannot deny, despite whatever
pain may come, God planned this from the start -
our bond that time and distance will not sever.

I must submit to sovereign will whenever
tears appear; God made you for this part,
so you have gone for good, not gone forever.

God gives and takes away, thus I will never
take for granted my soul’s counterpart,
this bond that time and distance will not sever.

So I can send you off to your endeavour,
knowing God Himself your course will chart,
and you have gone for good, not gone forever.

Until we meet again, my friend, wherever
that may be, I’ll keep, while we’re apart,
the bond that time and distance will not sever,
for you have gone for good, not gone forever.

Confessions of a Compulsive Collector

Some hunt and gather for their great obsessions,
or purchase souvenirs as their mementos;
some horde the countless objects they are given,
or spend all free time playing with their photos.

But I collect the purest form of memories,
thoughts captured from the brightest and the deepest;
I lock within my chest these special treasures,
the priceless times spent with the true and dearest.

Unfading they are always present with me,
their worth accumulating as time passes.
Occasionally, for those who helped create them,
I open up to show selected riches.

Then joy renewed by heart-felt reminiscing
can polish and increase their hidden value;
while not receiving shared appreciation
corrodes like rust, or spoils like stubborn mildew.

So after I return them to their casket,
and store them in my vaulted heart securely,
then over time my rare collection either
sustains my soul, or eats away within me.

Geology of Grief

.  a canyon cut deep
.                      carved out
.                                            by a lack of substance
.                                                                            ruachs who have blown through
.                                                                                                                 down through the years
.                                                                            a gorge eaten by emptiness
.                                            a valley hidden in hurt
.                       and raw with remembering
.  recently
.                      it was filled
.                                   flooded by understanding
.                                                           companionship
.                                                           comfort
.                                   roaring with laughter
.                      churning with challenge
.  but then
.                      the deluge departed
.                                                               flowing to futures
.                                             leaving the ravine running deeper
.                                                                                   the gulf greater than before
.                                                               and yet
.                                                                               less empty
.                                                                                                     less dry
.                                                                                                                     less jagged
.                                                               and in the deepest places
.                                             pools remain still
.                                                               like footprints
.                                                               like fingerprints
.                                                                                                reflecting heaven
.                                              and within the canyon walls
.                                                                                                Ruach Hako’desh
.                                                                                                                                  hovers


One yesterday the God who made all things
was born the man who died for me.
He took away my shame.

Today the God who must sustain all things
is still the man who pleads for me.
His righteousness I claim.

 Forever God the Son, heir of all things,
shall be the man who walks with me.
There is no fairer name!

 For yesterday, today, forevermore
my Jesus is the same.

Working Out the Knots

My friend sits quietly in flannelette,
the cold night watching from the windowsill;
narcotic TV helps her to forget,
while I nurse tender heartstrings tangled still.
For as she moves a hand beneath long hair
to rub her neck where all her worries dwell,
my raw heart resonates with every care,
and once again begins to ache and swell.
So to my feet I summon her to sit,
my restless hands to kneed through shirt and skin;
just close enough for her to benefit,
and near enough to ease the knots within.
Too soon tomorrow ends our therapy;
outside her door I curse the lonely street,
then turning, feel my heart wrenched out of me;
I leave it bound and waiting at her feet.
My final words I mouth in fading light,
‘Goodnight my tightest bond, my friend goodnight.’


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