Psalm 3 – The Sacred

Lord, how in thinking of only
Myself, am I lost in a world
Of cruelty without redemption?
There is no God for the selfish. Selah.

God does not exist for those
Who compete against others
For profit, for territory, for power
Against humanity, against life

Lord, how the masses are
So serious about their lot in life
And equally almost stupid
To the wonders of existence

In their down-trodden state
They forget the grace. Selah.
Will their tears come to nothing?
I will not be afraid for myself. Selah.

If God is near, the heart finds
Salvation, in what was given
Not by taking, but in accepting
Not by pushing, but by smiling

Not by cursing, but in learning
How simple is this world given. Selah.
I am only now beginning to comprehend
When I found light, I realized
I had no enemies, I awoke to this.

Eros in Retreat

I am waiting for my white butterflies
Summer’s babble of small noises
Where I can feel insignificant again
Behind crickets and proofs of God

I’m hoping that timely intervals
Will save me from this grief
Amidst the healing weeks
Of mourning and mornings

I have the patience of heart-breaks
That fly with delicate wings
Of youth’s love-sheath so tender
Bemused by nature’s glory

I am waiting for my sampled flowers
That have no flaw, but their unchanging beauty
That diamonds are only accomplished
After eternities, epochs long enough

That they forget what they once were
I am waiting for my single aims
To be accomplished in-between
The death of memories, it shall be sweet

To no longer recall who I have been
Or why art mattered, why love was cruel
And how the seasons fell, little squire anti-climaxes.