Heartbreak:

who is there,
that will listen to
and ponder
the thoughts
of my heart?

who exists,
that can dissect
each and every one,
from beginning
to end?

who can understand
the aches,
the longing,
the things my mouth
cannot express?

Heartbreak:
for something
deeper than
a relationship

who can love,
truly love me--
not just in name,
but whose every act
expresses a choice?

Heartbreak:
for something
only Heaven
can provide

who can show me,
that it's okay
to free yourself,
to let go of guilt,
and dance
the song of life?

Heartbreak:
for someone
who breaks all
life's petty rules

who can comfort,
hold me when
life doesn't understand,
who can just sit,
and listen to my tears?

Heartbreak:
for the one
only God
can provide.

Scribbles

There is not a word I could say
not a speech I could write
not a song I could sing
that could express
what you mean to me.
We're family--together--one
in more than the true sense of the word.
Connected by the ethereal--
no one can understand this bond.
You understand me--I, you
and so I find myself,
left scribbling more letters
to distract myself
from the emptiness of the room.
So many thoughts
so much anguish
so much joy overflowing
yet I can not share.
You left--with a piece of me,
that no one else will ever hold.
I treasure your gift--
I embrace it--
present it fully to the light,
letting it illuminate all around,
Always praying,
for your return.

Crystals

Like a mighty oak,
growing tall, sure and strong
hands clasped, lifted high
An axe thrust
meant for the core
but deflected.
Sap pouring out,
oozing through the seams,
soaking through the bark.
Sunshine--
freezing the sap in its tracks.
Crystals of infinite wonder,
honeyed gold,
frozen in time.
The oak still growing.
Ever shooting upward.
Ever reaching up.
Ever stretching.
For God.

Fictionary

What would happen,
if all our dreams came true?
What would happen,
if we got everything we really wanted?
Would life become perfect?
Is it possible?
Why doesn't God
give us everything we desire?
Would we take him for granted?
Would we eventually find out
we never actually wanted it?
Would we leave God,
running away from His relentless love?
Always striving for something
we can't attain from a human?
Fiction clouds my mind,
making me believe in
dreams that aren't fulfilled.
It begs me to follow the rainbow,
knowing I will always find an empty pot,
or worse--the despair of nothing.
When the haze lifts,
I firmly plant my feet.
I choose to believe.
To believe in a story
that God himself writes.
He's no soap-opera author.
He doesn't twist the plot,
manipulating my life with indifference.
When I'm willing to hand him the pen,
He writes--
corrects my pitiful scribbles,
and completes the story of my heart.

Note to You

Yesterday seems forever
I thought our past would be never--
we got lost in the world of however.

Now you are no more
moved on, passed my door
leaving me empty to the core.

A different kind of love
not from earth, but from above,
what friendships are made of.

So many thoughtful words,
now frozen through discourse,
make talking seem a curse.

Regretful that it had to change,
wishing for our yesterdays,
when you were still my friend.