An apology to the internet

Ah, internet, your monolithic wealth of information,
Seems used for little else but seeking auto-affirmation.
A plethora of soap-boxes with each a thousand scribes
A thousand selfish monuments, a thousand diatribes.

Oh vast, binary universe, chaotic cornucopia
So many daily tracking through in search of their utopia
And though sometimes, some treasure shines, some gem of inspiration
The users might, in greater part, find naught but consternation.

So why this woe?  What made it so?  What sparked this conflagration?
Why not elect a kind respect instead of condemnation?
I fear the answer no one "gets", that no one understands
Is we, as  broken humans, break whatever's in our hands.

The Process of Learning

I’ll take a thousand failures if
I might but once prevail;
I’ll take a hundred botched attempts
If one forgets to fail;
If next ‘tis only ninety-nine
I’ll learn, I’ll work, travail;
And drip by drip by drop and drop

I’ll someday tip the scale!

I'd Rather

I'd rather do battle with murderous pigeons
Than try to debate about faiths and religions
I'd rather taunt wolves from my house made of sticks
Than find myself having to talk politics.
And yet, here I am, trapped in rhetoric prison.
"Yay capitalism!" and "Jesus is risen!"
I know this sounds stupid, and kind of cliche:
I'm bad at debate, but I try anyway.
Religion and politics: both can be mocked
But, both are useful when patiently talked.
So let's talk!  Let's be patient, respectful and kind.

Who knows what solutions and joys we may find!

A Blessing to Parents Who Lost Their Child

In loving memory of Travis and his parents, Wil and Pat.



I can't help but think
Time itself
should have



Stopped.



When her son took his very
last
breath.



Hopelessly hoping he's holding his breath
I'll hold mine too,
And we'll pray
that this isn't
his . . .



How she is aching,
Her weeping heart breaking,
And I . . .
I have nothing
to offer.



A word, a cliché,
The "right" thing to say.
My prayers in a
tear-covered
coffer.



All I can say
on this darkest of days,
the thing that I KNOW I can do:
A prayer and a rhyme
A hope for this time
A wish and blessing for you.



May you be weak,
If it's strength that you seek,
For the "strong" may fall to the ground.
May you lay all your fears
Cry your bittersweet tears,
On your friends that you have all around.
May your burden be bared,
May your sorrow be shared,
May you never be standing alone.
And when you are pained
May you still be sustained

By the many who come to His throne.

Lovesick

I miss you, beloved,
      I don't care who knows.
I miss you so desperately,
       honey, it shows.


I find myself searching
      your hand when I pray.
Kissing the air when
      I wake up each day.

I'm hugging a pillow
     at night all alone,
wanting your name
     to come up on my phone.

Counting the days
     and the long hours too
'til I can touch you

     and say "I missed you."

Clumsy Runners

We're clumsy runners, Jesus,
not like You.

We're preachers of weak rants,
Lords of the faceplants,
Masters of "I can'ts" . . .
But keeping our unsteady pace.

We fall when we follow,
Have water; don't swallow,
Unhappy and hollow . . .
But glad to be part of the race.

Please prod us and poke us,
Revive us and stoke us,
Sharpen our focus
On You and Your beautiful face.

We'll slowly get stronger,
Get better, go longer,
Not turn or go wrong
Earn a crown for this glorious chase.