We Sit In Dark Kitchens

We Sit In Dark Kitchens

When you were buried you left me behind.
(Where did they carry the you I can't find?)
There under snow, beneath layers of soot?
Weren't those just ashes swept cold underfoot?
And really, how cruel when destruction creeps close
to priceless, invaluable things we love most.
Why can't I see you now, where have you gone?
Why does the grieving go on on
and on?
If I could just find you, I'd hide you away.
Then I would rewind you and beg you to stay,
and you would be whole, (says my mind) here with me.
(Though now you are whole as the Holy you see.)
We sit in dark kitchens as glory beams spread
violent storms through the cracks in the blinds overhead.
From this perspective, the wait feels so far;
and when we look up, just vague pinpricks of stars.

Sword (A Christmas Poem)

Sword

With your birth, a sword
was driven directly down
to the deepest depths
of the darkest dirt.
(But His mother's breaking heart
could not contain eternity)
When finite flesh brings the infinite to life,
a mother feels the earthquake
that awakens her shattered soul.
Could the Light of the World be contained
in a womb?
Wouldn't it spill
out of the cracks
as it burst wide open her heart?

Sapphire

You were the rarest of treasures,
a hidden mystery no one ever knew
was buried there.
Below.
In a cavern with walls
that would never stop weeping
(condensation of the soul)
I think it's time
to turn a light on in here.
I think you deserve a name.