The Hourglass

time is too slow when letting go, starting over, testing waters
turning a new leaf, replacing old labels with hope
a blind and uncertain journey, tiptoeing on what might be true

time is too fast for memories made, treasured, sealed
it chooses to end seasons without permission
sudden and cold it stops

outside of time a circumstance runs to the goal of potential
so important now, holding a breath a moment longer
soon so small and forgotten as it floats and disappears

inside of time a thousand years are a day
the clean inside edge of expectation
not noticed or named, blurred together and designed to forget

without time perspective sharpens
a blink of an eye responds to the momentary smile
filling the heart with the courage to risk

Love, part 3

Love is the distraction.

At life's dead ends, You are the solution to confusion,

The cause of hunger for truth purified.

You are the road to the secret place and

The ultimate answer in the midst of mystery. 

The garden of the soul

Has pieces of time hidden in random spots:

Apples and nails, olives and healing leaves.

Like a cryptic scavenger hunt 

They lie waiting for discovery,

To be matched together into a picture of redemption

Like love falling on bittersweet ground.

2*4*13

Psalm 45:11

He is captivated, taken hold at all points, as if forming a new constellation. Clinging to the memory of beauty in weakness, daily watching a hungry heart giving all in the quest to end unbelief.
Endless silence filled with coded conversation grows a root of honor, where each dim corner of the heart is seen by the King. He holds your fearful heart and fills it with wisdom and power in the waiting hours of night.
You try to let go,  but you rebuild the sandcastle of last summer, to contrive a counterfeit beauty  in black and white, yet tainted with cynicism and specks of envy.
You try to form the bond that is already stronger than love, fiercer than fire;
Know this: to honor is to trust; to trust the fraction of unseen reality is not a glimpse but a promise of the kingdom you are already in, where I see you now, drawn out of deep waters, fully satisfying the hunger clouding over today and tomorrow.

journal bits

from one week ago...

This season presses on me like thin air, difficult to breathe and even more difficult to feel what is in the depth of my heart. It aches for what is real, abundant and full of new, green leaves made for healing and a taste of the goodness that I know I should be able to see. Each hour brings me closer to backing into a corner, to realizing the people I trust most are not there for me now. The tools I had are gone, and the wants and needs are being burned up in the time of pruning.