Sometimes

sometimes there's a word on the tip of your tongue
heavy and dark and full of promise
stuttering there, trembling, waiting to fall, to be spoken.
sometimes the word is a name, so soft
filled with edges and consonants and gentle vowels
sometimes the word is just a word
simple, delicate, a rose on the edge of the world
about to fall, gravity reaching its slender fingers skyward
to grip and grasp and pull it down
sometimes the word is a vow
a trembling thing, so small, so frail, so weak
but let the seed grow and it will give you pause
and a reason to wake up, in a world of a heartless many
sometimes the word is just a thought
and an endless, formless, sightless terror
nameless and feared, and there will never be enough of us
of the compassionate few, to slay the dragon
sometimes the word is an idea
hiding in plain sight, behind a Guy Fawkes mask
with the endless determination of a madman
sometimes the word has no meaning, because it's been said too often
by the wrong mouths shaping the wrong voices
but...
sometimes the word is said
and the rose falls, to shatter on the pavement, and let the shards fall
and pierce a scream of a name
to chase away the terrors
and make a vow.


(c) 2013

God

Don’t try and guess my methods

Leave them lie and let them be

Just raise your hands and pray to me

Call my name; let it ring among the stars

My grace is in the breath of a world,

Insignificant among worlds

Tiny; just a speck of dust of the map of the sky

Raise your hands and pray to me

Say my name, scream it loud

Beg for mercy, love, a burial shroud

But fear me not – great is my love

Greater than the heat of suns

But like the universe itself, it will fade

Wake in the wonder of the worlds, but remember

I cannot grant you wishes

Nor create where there was emptiness

For I am not god

Nor am I God.

(c) 2014