Hopeful

I sometimes feel as if
my Hope is flying high,
on wings of bright color
above the Earth's surface.

And when it happens
to perch in a tall tree,
to preen it's feathers and
regroup for the coming storm,

I realize it is still
much closer to Heaven
than those who don't
have Hope at all.

Charlie

A blond ball of energy,
bouncing around a
large room,
making the world
his stage.

Each word he speaks
erupts the room in laughter,
as most four-year-old
superheros do.

A blessing to all he meets,
preceded by a beautiful
nine-year-old,
ready to take on the world.

He blows out the candles
before we sing,
and giggles when we relight
the flames.

Happy Birthday,
four-year-old;
Captain America
salutes you.

Daughter of the Most High: A Poem in Haiku

I am not trying

to change the world, I simply

want to be myself.

I am a chosen

people, a royal priesthood,

a nation of God.

I know now that I

deserve far more than I have

been led to believe,

by a world that does

not know the beauty of a

child of the King. 

*Second haiku borrowed from 1 Peter 2:9*

Metamorphosis

I have a butterfly
hanging on my wall;
a cobalt blue, morphio didius.

Dead on,
standing parallel
to it's frame,
it appears cobalt.

But when the sun shines
through the curtains,
early in the morning
and I am still in bed,

it appears almost transparent,
and the circularly designed
backside of the wings
seeps through.

And from the same spot,
many hours later,
my nightstand light causes
another striking effect:

one wing is magnificently teal
and glimmers stunningly,
while the other is midnight purple,
reminiscent of the night sky.

I am reminded by this butterfly,
as I am by so many others,
that life is almost never
what it seems, and neither
am I.

Move Forward

Some nights,
when the street lights dim
and the stars seem
to shine brighter,
the road seems to
call my name.

And I would so enjoy
turning up the music
and settling in,
charging forward
to the great unknown,
or any known
but here.

Wildfire

An ember lights,
a small fire contained
in the smallest of coals.

It was set aflame by
Their words, bubbling
straight to the core.

And the ashes turned to
flickers, that rose quickly
into flame...

Setting her heart on fire,
with the will to prove them
wrong, squelching fire
with cool determination.

Galilean Revelation

Galileo once said,
"I have loved the stars
too fondly to be fearful
of the night."

And in this clear mountain air,
under a deep navy blue curtain,
I find that he is right.

There is something magical
about stars so bright,
interlaced with stars barely
visible, galaxies away,
that makes me believe it is
impossible to despise
the night.

Mountain Sky

An intricate blanket of stars

lies hidden under

a heavy comforter of clouds,

against a deep blue background

set high above this sleepy town.

And I am sleepy too, 

reminded by droopy eyes

that fade in and out with 

each passing minute.

But I fight it,

trying to hold on 

to every moment

as long as possible.

Alluvial Fan

The floodgates opened
so many years ago,
leaving boulders and rocks
strewn in the wake.

And gushing water
billows over the mountainside,
winding through a rocky path.

With determination and
strong will, I push forward,
following in the steps of
so many before.

I pause and look out over
the ground I have covered,
and feel invincible.

Vacation

Excitement wells under
a sleepy exterior, with eyes
that droop every twenty miles.

And the beauty of a week away
starts to set in, as one state line
ends and another begins.

The air cools,
the flat lands rise
and mountains appear
on the horizon.

I take a deep breath,
and relax.

Bedtime

Butter yellow room

glowing in nightstand's soft light

as the world quiets down.

Life Stories

"This moment will be
just another story someday."

It will be retold to friends
who weren't here,
and dissected over and again
with those who were.

We can make it a happy story,
a story that captivates listeners
with a smiling narrative;

or it can be a tragedy that we
replay only for our closest friends,
while drying our eyes and
shaking our heads.

Which shall we choose?

**Quote borrowed from The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Steven Chbosky**

Who Should You Be?

"No one can tell you who you are."
People say that, right?

And the irony of it all is:
they still try to tell you who to be,
even when they're telling you
that no one can change you.

Yet we still try.

We try to change others,
we try to change ourselves...
we try on new personas,
then change it when it backfires.

Everyone talks about being real,
but being the best you possible.

Is the real you always the
best you?

And if it isn't,
are you supposed to change?

Or are you supposed to stay
Real?

Life is full of questions, it seems.
Yet the line between
right and wrong gets
foggier every single day.

Dreaming Forever

I'm still praying every night.
And I still dream every night.

I pray when the sun is shining
and when the moon fills the sky.

I dream with eyes closed,
and open toward the sky.

I pray for my dreams,
for courage and strength.

And through all,
I hold hope in
the King of Kings.

Her and I

She looks at the world
through different eyes.
Her's aren't clouded with
visions of:
"The way things could be."
Or even:
"The way things should be."

No.

Her world is full of
current images,
up to date ideals and
acceptance.

She doesn't dream;
she plans.

She doesn't wish;
she wills.

In some ways I want to be
Just Like Her.

And yet...

What is life without
the fairy dust of dreams?

Repeat, repeat

I put in an old CD mix today,
rolled down the windows
to let in the steamy morning
breeze. I turned up the volume
and sang along, dancing at all
of the red lights. And the words
related so well to my life; the
beat seemed to fit the day...
so well, in fact, that as the last
note hit, I pressed rewind and
listened to it all over again.

Rooted Deep

A flower that
blooms quickly,
with weak roots,
basks in the sunlight
for a short while
before fading quickly
under the heat if day.

But a flower that
takes time,
digs deeper roots
and blooms slowly,
can last long enough
to make a breathtaking
impact on all who see it.

Stronger

And I am reminded through many means
that through Christ all things are very possible.
It is only my sinful human nature that continually gets in the way.
Thankfully my God is bigger, stronger, greater... and always on my side.

Sand

It is
astounding
how little things
can take hold
of a heart
so easily

A character in
a book

A story heard
in passing

A tiny dog

A staged
television show

A little child

And so much more.

It is the little things,
the day to day things
that fill up the
cracks and crevices,
nooks and crannies
in so many
beautiful hearts.

Leaf

I found 

a leaf

full of holes

sitting on the

stoop. And I 

was reminded,

that even broken 

things can be

beautiful.

i am

I am not
the thoughts I think
that nag and
tear me down.

I am not
the words they say
or don't say
that knock my
spirits.

I am not
a quitter,
no matter how it
feels.

I am
enough.

I am
a storm chaser,
running full force
into life.

Peter Pan

Dreamland
is a strange bird.

Pictures and stories
mingling about with
bits of truth...

parading around as
memories,

when they are truly
Fabrications.

And I wake with a start,
my mind stuck in a dream;

wondering
and wishing...

Then drifting back to sleep.

Literary Emotions

Tears fall from
emotional eyes

Pooling on
soft cheeks

Before dropping to
the white pages
of a good book

That sits perched
on folded knee.

Home

Windows down in a fresh
summer heat.

Sun shining in the far off
unknown.

Music beating through the air
like a steady heart.

Corn stalks sprouting off
country roads.

This is Nebraska.

Catching Up

And isn't that just the way it goes?
One step forward,
then you stub your toe.

And the words rhyme so well,
but then you start trying.

So it falls apart like
a popsicle in summer heat.

Wedding Bells

She walked down the aisle,
on her father's arm.

He smiled,
as the crowd fell silent,
to see such a beautiful bride.

And the party was bumpin',
their friends were jumpin';
celebrating such a happy union.

Blessed to be a part of
a special day.

Euphoria

Maybe it's the sunshine,

cascading through my windshield

Or the open fields that seem to shine,

a bright green on a backdrop of blue.

It could be the music, 

streaming from my speakers

straight into my heart.

Then again, it's probably the warmth

of a summer day's sky, 

warming my soul 

as few things can.

Maybe it's you,

each memory burned 

in a fighting heart.

And maybe it's a little bit of

everything.

Maybe it's just me.

Celebrate

Out with a bang
and a pop
and a fizzle

Fireworks clatter
and burst,
lighting up the sky
with color

But it isn't the fireworks
or the parades,
the hot dogs or friends
that make this day special.

No...
it's the freedom
that came at a cost.

So thank you's are said
and hugs are given,
flags flown from houses
and soldiers saluted.

This is the real meaning,
the true reason to
celebrate.

And celebrate we do.

Boom

And the beat goes on,
just like it always does.

Marching up the street
of this wonderful life.

Because even when it seems tough,
even when it feels as if I can't keep
pushing forward, I can...

And I will.

Literature and Travel

And the beauty of the matter is:
no matter where you are,
who you are or
what it is you are becoming,
the words and stories of others,
or even the stories hidden
deep within our own hearts,
have the power to
transform us,
renew us,
even transport us
without so much as boarding a plane.

The only other wonder that holds
such defining power is travel...

But don't the two go hand in hand?