The Dark

You used to be immune
To fear and understanding,
And who knows whether we kept you that way
Or if it’s by design,
But the thin thread held tension just long enough
For us to get comfortable

Until that night you wanted the door open
Light on
One more story
Drink of water
Don’t leave, please.

When did you become afraid?
Was it just today
That our words became warnings?

I can only pray for you to know better,
See the clay under your nails for what it is—
Dirt.
But also work and weight and wonder.
See in the dark as He does,
With that blind instrument of grace.

-January 2015

Does It Matter?

Does it matter which way is home
When the water freezes and cracks
If you travel by mustard seed trail
Or neon road sign’s flash

If giving into hunger
You run aimless for awhile
While bats and birds
Line up on the cables and smile
For miles

Does it matter which way is home
If you stand and wait and call
Until momentum or a branch
Drives you forward or you fall

And even so, who’s left to say
That the way you’ve gone is not the way?

-January 2015