…any last questions?

  • 1526_5724709d86f8d3.71666306-big

    can palm-shaped architecture propel
    my pathetic prayers into space?
    can my selfish schemes compel
    meaningful conversation to take place?
    is exchange with eternity one way?
    i stumble in silence, little now to say.

    once wanted, eternal engagement,
    beyond oceans, skies and stars –
    now an agnostic estrangement
    robs meaning from memoirs;
    measured, less certain my hopes –
    were one-time treasures vain tropes?

    calibration not quite complete,
    clock cogs need some cleaning;
    few days when I willingly greet
    maker of mercy and meaning;
    time transparent, firm friend forever,
    pain might push my palms together…

    My head was all tangled in seaweed at the bottom of the sea where the mountains take root. I was as far down as a body can go, and the gates were slamming shut behind me forever— Yet you pulled me up from that grave alive, O God, my God! – Jonah 2: 5 – 7


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