God in Texas

Fear consumes those who fail to trust.
Cynicism leads to broken hearts.
I try to trust, I want real faith.
But I don't know if God is in Texas.

I see the hand of God in all,
yet cannot trust his sovereign hand
Who can know the mind of Him
who raised the Son to life again?

It seems that life is really short
or long, depending on your attitude
When your god fits in Your box
How can God be in Texas?

Where does faith arise?
When men appeal on bended knee
and trust the father's gracious hand,
may Jesus Christ bless them then.

Faith is hard to live out, well
when your heart is on the line
Even though God's in control,
Is my God in Texas?

48

Standing on a street corner across from the pub
Staring blankly in to open windows, ill lit
Once welcomed, open arms and many cheers
Now walking by, on the other side,
wander on, old man

Street lights flicker down the side walk, wander on, old man
Glance back, once again light from an open door
Hope rises in the chest, dashed again by stumbling drunk
Walking on, down the street,
leave them there, old man.

Door opens, don’t look back, leave them there, old man.
Slow footsteps ring, on sidewalks back, coming up behind.
Stop and see, who wanders near, fear not shadows
Waiting for the shapeless form,
fear him not, my friend

A Mystery to the Majority or Friday: 2:41pm

My Hands twitch
Heart beats faster
I'm over-thinking everything
My eyes dance
Mind races
Analyzing every thought
My tongue is dry
talking slow
proposing radical change.
What response?
Who knows?
We'll see.

We Wear the Mask

(A Poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar)

We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,--
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.

Why should the world be overwise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.

We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask!

(One of my favorite poems)

A Strange Thing

It is a strange
day when people
think they love
someone.
It is even more
strange to feel
loved in return by
another.
Love is a strange
thing, it turns
men into little
boys, women into
projects.
But this strange
thing drives the
whole world, even
our very souls.
Understand not this
strange and beautiful
emotion, but enjoy
this affection.

Love is a Strange
Thing.

Water Flows

Sounds of rushing,
drops are falling,
running on my skin.
Standing, thinking
wondering.
Who is she?
Do I know her?
Could it be _____?

Streams collecting free
Running off the edge
Heavy drops freed
What if?
Could this be?
Does she feel?
Dare I?

Rushing sound in ears
Flowing o'r my skin
Water soothing
as I question who,
and where, and when

Prone to Wander

They call me the loser, the poser, the punk
They don't understand the Grace I've been shown
An addict and drunk and a horrible man
I was shown light, in the midst of the Dark
Amazing Grace so says the song
Only to save those who are wrong
When the perfect man died on the tree
I was the one that held him there

Prone to wander Lord I feel it
Prone to leave the God I love
When I wander from the truth
When I flee from in your way
My God calls I can not speak
I return, on bended knee

Take my heart lord, take and seal it
Seal it for the realm above

When I see the dying race
I can not bear to stand and watch
Why do I not begin to pray?
I can not answer for my sins
Why do I when kneeling down
Ask my God for things of man?
When all the earth cries out for Grace
I am asking to win the race…

Prone to wander Lord I feel it
Prone to leave the God I love
When I wander from the truth
When I flee from in your way
My God calls I can not speak
I return, on bended knee