to remind and remember.

i have to live with this
most often below the surface

tears.

i want to live with this
it is that or forget

i will not forget.

there is a hole in our lives now
that was not there before

our son has gone.

don't mistake me for a sad man
joy is not in bluer skies

Love holds and molds us.

know where my treasure lies
candle lit and waiting on

the King of kings.

the waiting means there is love
that's what the lonely is for

(loop)

from notes on Micah

i found an old poem in notes on the book of Micah.
i haven't read Micah since then so i don't know if it's related or if i was off in my own world.
nothing particularly great about it,
but it's entertaining to read something of mine of which i have no recollection.
might as well share it here.
=======================
broken hands that try to mend
broken hearts all scarred and bent
work to hold the soul in peace
but they're always failing

can human hands heal human souls
can works of flesh fill us all full
what hope is found in mortal man
have we a rock on which to stand

so who are you to stand so tall
in time you know you're sure to fall
this life throws more than just bad curves
all you've gained, what is it worth?

the questions

an amateur poet's epistemology
or an amateur epistemologist's poem,
part 1 (i make no promise of further parts)
------------------------------
yeah i know that we don't know
just how much that we don't know
or even why we know
all that we think we know

and it's true that Truth is real
or even nothing can't be true
and you can't question your existence
if there's no such thing as you

still the questions are always bigger
than the answers i can find
so there must be something more
than just me, myself, and i

but if there's more here than just me
that must include what i perceive
for what use is it to doubt
all that i can hear or see?

because the gap between thinking
and living such a thing
would divide me from all of you
that are listening to me

so the questions are still bigger
than the answers we can find
and there must be something more
than just you and i and why

if i ever

if i ever knew just how you love me
if i understood the way you feel
if i ever called just at the right time
i might know what i'm supposed to do

if i ever saw the view from your side
if i only knew all of the truth
if i could hold my gaze at your eyes
i might always agree with you

but i'm calloused on the inside
i've been crooked way down deep
i am used to just pretending
that i'm as good as i can be

if i ever told you how i love you
if i could ever show the way i feel
if i can stand naked before you
i might have your point of view

but i am calloused on the inside
for so long crooked way down deep
and i'm used to just pretending
that i'm as good as i can be

save me jesus, kill me quickly
i must die a thousand times
before i will believe you love me
before i stop buying my own lies

these words fall easily from my lips
like so many words before
but have i ever really meant them
if i never love you any more

someday i'll see the bigger picture
and not this dim and mirrored view
but until then i'm just trusting
that you love me and i love you

still i'm calloused on the inside
i'm still crooked way down deep
i'm just trying not to pretend
that i'm as good as i can be

the treetops

april 13, 1999

do you ever see the treetops?
watch them dancing in the wind?
hear their silence on a still night?
or their screams when no one's there?

do you wonder at the green grass?
ever-growing beneath the sky.
it has no worries, no tomorrows,
feels no fear, says no goodbyes.

and in this place where springtime gathers,
winters fall and summers fade
into years of constant changing,
days of sun and months of rain.

and yet i see about me,
one thing which still remains.
a beauty! no, a laughter
beneath the soil, above the rain.

laughter sprung from joy unending
and satisfaction in today.