POEM: The Poetry That Is A Church (Version 1)

Among the faithful and the doubters,
In the presence of loyal sons
And shameful prodigals alike -
Scrub congregants fresh with tears of baptism –
A promise from the searching for the Living Christ
Like a lighthouse that calls out “home, home”
Out into bottomless black fog that is the night.
This is a contract of hope written
By the contact of family;
By the beat and the rhyme
Of the poem that is a church.
Recite a prayer: it is incense
Rising like returning souls -
It is a whisper that longs for the union
That lies deep in the mud of everyone.
Let us fast hold tight each other’s hand
That we may each account for one another:
Hold what is sacramental near as words -
Comprised of saliva and breath, of mind and soul.
This world sparkles so when viewed
Through her stained glass of hope, so blue
Or the mystic fire, the red of blood, the sacred and true

POEM: I Want To Lasso The Hearts of Everyone

I want to lasso the hearts of everyone
and bind them together
i want to tie them up into one giant organ
that pumps kindness into thin air.
how hard it is sometimes just to smile.

i carry shells of the ocean in my pocket
just to remind me where I am from:
full of brine and sand, relentless as wind.