On Thickening Skin

Oh, it ain't like it used to be,
never like it was.
Each time I come home,
I'm a stranger in love
with your madness.
Disguised as a dove,
you ain't looking for peace
when you're out for blood.
But, each time I come home,
I'm stranger in love.

Ain't like it used to be,
never like it was.
Flame gone to ember's
not the light that it was.
But here in shadows stretching
making our own stuff's
two burned out strangers
differently in love
in light of the light of
this, "never like it was;"

making light of the light of
this, "never like it was."

Attention

Would you with Jesus daily walk

only in one direction,

o're the waves on the storms of life

like Peter with fixed attention?

Would you rise or faithless fall 

with your soul's affection?

Sparks

In the cool of the morning

I croon to you warning

of arms that would hold you 

till dark 

as up we lay asking 

at God's kindness basking 

at those sparks in a dark 

lonely sky

We're but sparks in a dark lonely sky 

just sparks in a dark lonely sky 

I would ever-be never without you my love

my spark in a dark lonely life.  

Why we two together

with hands gently tethered

have grace in such generous
supply...

but sparks rose a flame

to a fire never tamed

and the whole world's ablaze

with our light

I would ever-be never without you, my love,

my spark in this dark, lonely life.

The Shuffle

In the movement of the waters
in the shaking of a kiss
in the silent prayer preceded
a most feared and reverent wish
to the Maker
   
           of our love known now
           in revolving states of bliss…
           Turn I to that memory
           evolved-now unto this

And I praise the then-beginning
and I praise the rocky road
and I praise the heights ascended
and the baggage that has slowed
us to a shuffle
             though we really used to go...
             Lover, look not to the pillow.
             Lover, look not to the pillow.

Lover, look not to the pillow
or the shuffling of your feet,
like some traveler too wearied
by the movements on the street
             amidst the wonder of creation
             also spoken by a word
             Lover, speak to me, me, me
             Lover, lift your head and see me
            
             And look not to the pillow.