spontaneous

everyone knows it when She enters the room
the train of Her dress and all are consumed
Her presence is felt and the people rejoice
worship pours out like there wasn’t a choice

last cigarette

i still haven’t smoked my last cigarette
it sits in its pack in my glove compartment
and though i haven’t smoked in a generation
i guess it’s waiting for a special occasion

first

fear of blood
fear of hurting
fear of failing
fear i’ve failed

fear of blood
fear of same
fear of worse
fear of hope

fear of blood
fear i’m changing
into something
that’s afraid

afraid of blood
afraid i’ve failed
afraid i never
really did

doing more
doing absolutely more
absolutes abandon
me in fear

now i’m laid
laden hope
laden fear
laid in blood

God isn’t magic

God isn’t magic but majestic
God doesn’t grant wishes but makes dreams
God doesn’t hate your sin but redeems it
God doesn’t seek perfection but is perfect
God gives you more than you can bear but bears with you

failed song idea

i sing my song for all to hear.
although no wretched soul lends ear,
my voice is wrought in vacant halls.
for i – a bird– have this my call:
that though i know i praise in vain
i pray it sooth some unseen pain.
so when no life or death draws near
i sing my song for all to hear.