June 27: The Long Nights

I never asked for
A time of testing
Even when it helps me
Understand times of blessings

Instead of seeking comfort
And asking for help
I was off to a corner
Refusing to get well

I don't understand loss
But I'm beginning to understand
What it means to carry my cross

When long nights
Seemed as if they would never end
And heartache
Was my only friend
The still small voice inside
Glared light into my eyes
That opportunity to blink
Opening my eyes to see and think
About how there's approaching
A greater day

My words were often
Very, very few
Folding hands in prayer
Was the opposite of what I wanted to do

It always felt easy
To let failure reign
And to forget about wisdom
That comes through times of pain

I don't understand loss
But I'm beginning to understand
What it means to carry my cross

When long nights
Seemed as if they would never end
And heartache
Was my only friend
The still small voice inside
Glared light into my eyes
That opportunity to blink
Opening my eyes to see and think
About how there's approaching
A greater day

The battles are never over
Even though I plead for
Peace during this war
The struggles are not
For me alone
The battle belongs to the Lord

I never asked for
A time of testing
Even when it helps me
Understand times of blessing



There have been many instances that have led me to having long nights. Some were of my own doing, others having come from people around me. When I think about having to "carry my cross" I reflect to why Jesus had to carry his on his day of death. His burden was so much more than just the present physical suffering he faced, but he was carrying the burden of the world. When there are moments of pain, it was there, loneliness, sorrow, seclusion, they were all there that day. And most importantly the three letter word of death, sin. If Jesus had never carried the cross, we would never have the blessing of it.

June 26: The River Named Life

There's a river named Life
It helps the weary to thrive
The deep waters they will keep
All those thirsty to be alive

There's a river
For the children of the king
There's a river
On the banks we will sing
Glory, Glory, Glory
To the King, everlasting

There's no cost to drink
From that Holy river
Understand the Lord is merciful
And the true life giver

There's a river
For the children of the king
There's a river
On the banks we will sing
Glory, Glory, Glory
To the King, everlasting

Let the cool water
Come and revive your soul
This river is for eternity
For the sheep in the shepherds fold

There's a river
For the children of the king
There's a river
On the banks we will sing
Glory, Glory, Glory
To the King, everlasting

Let the water flood over
With mercy and grace
On all the saints and followers
From every tribe and race
And let us all sing
Glory, Glory, Glory
To the King, everlasting

There's a river
For the children of the king
There's a river
On the banks we will sing
Glory, Glory, Glory
To the King, everlasting

June 25: Sometime After The Ceremony

The sunlight blinded my eyes
The future just as hard to see
The reading of every name
The handshake that meant I was free

With a bit of pomp and circumstance
There was nowhere left to go
Life just shifted enormously
All I could do was play "Heroes"

I was told that
It's okay to dream
About what I could be
And the places I could see
Because we're all great achievers

As that sun went down
The orange and brown
Sunlight burned away
All the accolades
From this doubting believer

The concrete path
Leading out of that field
Our names etched into that stone
Once brimming with zeal

Now ten years or so
That stone starting to fade
Erosion just doesn't take names
It indicates false progress made

I once believed
I had five years to prove
Whether life was worth living
And even if it was worth attempting
Trying to be a great achiever

But wisdom doesn't come
With a push of a button
Perspective comes with time
And context comes inline
From this older believer

Pictures show someone
Who once was me
The paper of completion
Nowhere to be seen

That march goes on
The concrete path getting longer
The sun rising and falling
And Bluejays moving onward



I am reminded whenever I do a track workout at my former high school of how time has moved on since my time there. The etched nickname is not the same as it once was, and those fellow classmates of mine, their names disappearing. One day there will just be a concrete stone that looks choppy. How fitting that our life is reflected in some concrete.

June 24: The Growing Canyon

I know that
All men are created equal
Yet I constantly find
Separated people

The rain falls on the rich
And the poor
Yet the rich get away with
What the poor go to jail for

There's a canyon growing
A wider and wider gap
Between those who have
And those that lack

In that daily paper
Entertainment we find
Not in the celebrity
But in the disenfranchised

As the fiddle song plays
The great dance and scourge
The fire grows stronger
Leaving hope burned
The smoke rises high
The signal of demise
The time for cowards passed

For the low
The scraps we throw
We say, "It could be worse,
I hope you know."

For those who think
They've risen above that line
Beware the marionette strings
That'll be cut at any time

As the fiddle song plays
The great dance and scourge
The fire grows stronger
Leaving hope burned
The smoke rises high
The signal of demise
The time for cowards passed

For the ones at the top
A drought of satisfaction
The gathering of techno stones
Are empty accumulation

As the fiddle song plays
The great dance and scourge
The fire grows stronger
Leaving hope burned
The smoke rises high
The signal of demise
The time for cowards passed

June 23: A Brief Word About Water

Underneath the earth
Melting off icy sides
Down course mountains
Flowing with the tides
Evaporating with heat
Forming clouds in the sky
Falling into the ocean
Or off the cheek from a cry

The streams pass
Into the rivers
Providing drink
Like a gift giver
Marsh and bogs
Deltas and bays
Into the great engine
The designers way

June 22: The Old Straws

The old stuff
Ain't gonna save
Nor will I
Be the one to make the change

When we grasp
To all the old straws
Where passing on
A tombstone already engraved

Those legal rules
That were never written
Cover over all
The ways to be uncomfortable

When we look
For true authenticity
All we find
Is our lives dichotomy

When you arise
From the seat you're in
And move on
To the next best thing
Know that one day
The excitement will wear
And the damage done
You can't repair

Now at the buffet
We take small portions
Moving from dish to dish
Till our faces full

If by chance
You're still hungry
Maybe it's because we got milk
Not solid food

When you arise
From the seat you're in
And move on
To the next best thing
Know that one day
The excitement will wear
And the damage done
You can't repair

Know that there is
Precedent
For a deaf ear
To be turned
To those crying out
For some kind of
Free hand out

June 21: Before I Go, Let Me Tell You Something

When the trumpet sounds
I'm going home
When the trumpet sounds
I'm going home
When the trumpet sounds
I'm going home
Going home to be with the Lord

I'm going to throw off
All those chains
I'm going to throw off
All those chains
I'm going to throw off
All those chains
That keep me tied down to this world

If the trump don't sound
I know where I'm gonna go
If the trump don't sound
I know where I'm gonna go
If the trump don't sound
I know where I'm gonna go
Gonna go to the Lord at the end of the road

Before I go
Let me tell you something
Before I go
Let me tell you something
Before I go
Let me tell you something
About the man who is my King

Let me tell you
Of the wondrous things he has done
Let me tell you
Of the wondrous things he has done
Let me tell you
Of the wondrous things he has done
And how he came to rescue you and me

Gonna sing hallelujah
To the King
Gonna sing hallelujah
To the King
Gonna sing hallelujah
To the King
For his love covers over all sins


There are allot of songs that I could write, and even poems and stories, scripts etc. Only one thing matters. That is the story of redemption that is for all. The repetitive nature of blues/gospel/spiritual, hammer homes the importance of what the singer is singing. So here I try to hammer the important home.