Image By Kanye West is a Christian. Let it sink in.1 I have often said that when it comes to humanity the most beautiful things start with a confession of how dark we are inside. My gut reaction to the news of Kanye West’s faith was immediate skepticism. That sentence does not do justice to how ugly that is. We believe as Christians that when someone accepts Christ2, they are a new creation, the old

I have been caught up just like a lot of people in the swirling miasma1 of blatnant, nuanced yet undefined corruption that is the world at large. It is like humidity that sticks to the skin. You can not see it but you can feel it and you can not get away from it. The wicked prosper and their most profitable venture is tearing each other apart. This leaves me not knowing who to root

The old fan clicks and whirs. I need to repair it. I click and whir when I think, about everything that needs replacing. The broken things and the whirring fan fall away sometimes, and I get to see the threads back to you.

To the liquor store we went.The lightest of blues and yellows mingled.in the sky casting its purple hue.The atmosphere mingling all fall colors.With that purple ethereal nostalgia, a road traveled often.I lost my purpose for the trip.Like a soldier forgetting the mission.Dad listened to music about pimps.I did to, it hung in my brain.Next to the image of the purple wood.

Schrodinger’s spiritual mind both alive and dead.A swelling desire to dwell on the eternal.The carnal inspiration of the darker thoughts.loneliness and anger war against the lovely and pure.Staring into a sunrise over mountains while counting my sins and offenses. A swelling din of joy growing at the sight, the sound of the beloved.Into the fog of melancholy nihilism, fatalistic grind, the rut.Rise above I tell myself, breath in the fog its good for the lungs.See

One slip, one unfinshed task, one meInsufficent quantum mental nodesOrganic processor ran hot Stuck looping unreasonable expectationsImterstellar contium terminated by “oops”I forgot my laptop Late to work already after Raked over the coals of joyful inadequacyThe seams; can’t you see them they loosen, bust into spaceAnd I am undone in the few miles it takes to go and return.While I am there getting what I forgotI fill my cup again A second chance at coffee.

A toddler’s demanding cry.A teen’s frustrating whine.A child’s roll of the eye.A coworker’s biting reply.A spouse’s sharp decry. My heart is hard.My eyes are blind.Under all human action,A desperate link.Be it hurt, truth, madness or sin,True evil, virtue or a deafening inner dinThe man with empathy, wisdom and love combined,There in his heart grows the peacemaker’s vine A toddler’s demanding cry.The confusion of youth and dependence imbibe. A teen’s frustrating whine.The scaffolding is set build

All these people, bodies, soulsLungs filled with gifts, every particleOne man speaksArms and microphone a man who is focal Abide in me The branch drinks the sap Pens scratch paper tiny screens scrollWe are intertwined by the KingAre we superficial?I am a well dressed bag man Keep my command.The fruit swells is it sweet? It is so polished all of it even meI hate the polish I want to seeI want to see past to

I forgot the Deep Wood.It used to be sewn into my bone.Where fires burned for warmth.Light was made for reading and work.The deep wood used to be my home. I would drink from brooks of song,but as modern man from the tap.Where everyday chores were craft.My modern world is immediate,a disposable waste a glimmering trap What is this Deep Wood I seek? Not a place of location or crest. No, an inner reality painting all.The wind

I have considered this thing called worship. What is it that we humans are so inclined to it? We sing our favorite songs as if they are us. We cry when a celebrity whom we never knew dies. We tear up at the sight of a sunrise. We devote hours and hours of effort to sports, video games, and our careers. So if we are in this; devoting thought, time and passions to all manner