Dressed in serviceable spotless robes
Her demeanor savant adept but muted
Anonymous
Softly moving with polished grace
Around the table
Serving the diners
Who deal with her as an afterthought
All the bowls and utensils exactly placed
With pride of touch and inner peace
Her hallmark
Perfection in everything
And grace in serving
Simple caring dignity
There are thirteen this evening
Simple food for rough hewn men
Counterpointed
With curiously gentle principles

The Body is composed of many parts
and it needs your gifting of talents;
open up your spirit and heart…

to provide God with holy service.
Don’t waste your earthly talents
with hardness of heart or disservice.

Find your identity in Christ!
Feed on the fullness of His Word
and enjoy His eternal Life!

Become part of Heaven’s story,
by allowing yourself to be…
Used for His Glory.
.
.
.
Author Notes:

Loosely based on:

Today’s great undead poets,
awash in the internet sea,
seek to fill the void of sensible emptiness
of our cyberspace world.
Following the heroic tradition of Man,
these daring individuals look to gain acceptance
through the expression of concepts.
Mirroring the virility and vitality of Life,
in defiance of critical naysayers,
the blankness of virtual paper
is scribbled upon with hurt, hope and ideals.
Writing styles and topics,
whether expressed in romanticized language

Standing at the threshold
of Death’s ultimate door,
my last gasp escapes me…
As I’ve never experienced before.

Into the Heavenly realm
I ascend in wonderment,
now housed in an incorruptible body
and thankful that from sin I did repent.

Standing in God’s throne room
freed of all Earthly flesh,
my spiritual essence is energized
and feeling fully refreshed.

Now gathered unto my Savior,
unencumbered reality is more than it seems;
for to be in His Presence
is my accomplished dream.

A night of warmth, the day is here,
my beans now grow a race is clear
the soil erupts to let them through
a sea of green to feed us seen.

The nighttime heat, summer is here,
it is so hot I can't see clear,
my face the sweat do sting my eyes,
I cry dear sir please fix the air

A city awakens brushing
suicides and junkies flushing
with her human bone comb snagging
drones watch football huffing, bragging

Life never seems simple
Every day I fake dimples
To bury a secret
So no one can read it
If I could
You know I would
I am about to break
And you just take and take
I don't need peace
When you take pieces
Of me
Please don't turn out the light
Everything is not... alright
Life is a race
I cannot keep the pace
People ask what I am doing
But I am not sure where I am going
People think I am flying
On the inside I am dying
This is my knife
Deep into my life

This.
And that you love me.
Even just that you are.

That you see softness and then it is.
That you lay down and I sleep.
That you are happy and so, I am.

You are.
And that you love me.
Like this.

Your voice calls from the Dark

Whispers that haunt

                each flake of Snow

The wet kiss of the ice trails my cheek

The only truth,

                the ground with each step.

Your tongue darts the mind

Thoughts tortured

                with each stab of the Arctic wind

The warmth of my palms partially melts the ice

The true rest,

                The completeness of the Dark.

The wind marries the Dark

A silent Blizzard

I am nowhere and everywhere

All that wishing,
Never doing.

All that frustration,
Keeps on brewing.

And the tea of laziness
Is never sipped.

~Is Inaction Too An Action?~

I surrender my Faith to your protection...

Your Faith is as an honored guest in my home...