The Church at the End of the Road

The red doors of 1886 open their armsto breathe a wind of welcomefrom angelic spirits suspended.The stained glass on high, sparkles ina scintillation of sunlight,as the sacred hands of the Savior wave us in. The sweet smell of Easter’s candle wax,tears beneath a flaming helicoid of smoke, swirling upward to skewer a bottleof the King’sContinue reading “The Church at the End of the Road”

Sacred Scars

A scar from sin lays across my soullike a rapier’s sword slash, now whollyhealed by the redemptive resurrection.Such sacred scars like fallen stars,reveal no secrets are hiddenfrom the holy light shining outof the uttermost edge of the heavens. This light anchors me like a treeof steel, sinking deep roots that quietthe random wind of sin,nowContinue reading “Sacred Scars”

The Nonchalant

I am living a life of the nonchalant,Though times present exceptions,Like helter-skelter run arounds,To remind me of life’s distractions. I temper my days of avidity,And lean toward nonchalance,Like a journey to the never-never,Exploring soulful renaissance. I daily dream the nonchalant,But am here for God to use,As the bobber that floats in the lake,I’m but tackleContinue reading “The Nonchalant”