I recently got some bad news that a friend of mine from recovery suddenly passed away. He was only 32 years old. As these dark pandemic days drag on, I felt I needed to write this post to process my emotions.
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Saying Grace (a poem)
We say grace before meals, give thanks to God
for food in the fridge + what’s set before us
knowing not everyone is as fortunate +
there are some, right here in this city,
who are starving + scraping by –
God, thank you for our daily bread +
nourish those not at our table.
(Photo by Hannah Busing on Unsplash)
Everyday Saints
I was a mess in college.
Two years before I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, I was enrolled at a university in New York with somewhat of a life trajectory, a moral compass, and many good qualities.
Continue readingIt Keeps Getting Better (a poem)
We’ve been together for two years
and it keeps getting better –
I know you well, but will I ever know you completely?
Your essence, sense of self, the core of you
that’s hidden and accessible only to you and God
but as the days go by, more is revealed
and it keeps getting better.
Sainthood (a poem)
What happened to the woman who
was nearly stoned to death?
Jesus said to not sin again,
but if she’s like me, she was
back in sweaty sheets later that day,
engaged in sinful acts – it’s a fact that
we’re far from saints + sainthood is
a hatred of humanity
but Jesus was half-God,
so it’s not so odd to believe
He died for me + whether I sin today
or tomorrow doesn’t matter much
because grace is free
(Photo by Laura Allen on Unsplash)
When I Die (a poem)
When I die, I want to go quietly – free from the miseries
of my body breaking down, organs sickened,
cutting off life as drift away.
When I die, I want to wake in a better world,
away from earth’s torments + the adverse emotions
gurus say we must bear.
Continue readingSurrender (a poem)
You think God has left you, that perhaps
you’ve outgrown Him –
we all want to be gods now, in control of the things
that spin around us.
Continue readingLearning How to Pray
Prayer is a funny thing. How does one do it? What’s the purpose of it? Over the years, my prayer life has changed. And the ways in which I think of prayer, and it’s various uses, has also changed.
Continue readingFallen Angels (a poem)
Satan rebels and fallen angels follow him
to the underworld – wings clipped, eyes ablaze
with red like the demons they are.
Stand atop this holy hillside and survey the city –
if you are the Messiah, then prove it.
Continue readingFar from God (a poem)
I must get off this path of sin, and find my
inner-being in God, but I do not know how.
I pray, but I no longer feel the consolation
I once felt – that wholeness and joy, like I was
being held tightly in His arms.
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