Skip to the content
Into the dark of the depths
Sapping and draining my breath
Diving away from the light
Vanish from surface’s sight
Alone in my silent descent
Away from the cries of repent
But there at the bottom so still
A new light my empty soul fill
Listen
Hanging up on a cross;
Dripping from toes, my dross.
Buried in waters of dust,
Chipping away at crust.
Breathing on me, a dove
Sent from the moon above.
Tending fin, wing, and claw.
Eating good fruit I saw;
Nibbling on blood and brain.
Riding on wheel of pain.
Farming thorns from the brink,
Wanting for crumb and drink.
Listen
Complexity perplexes thee; simplicity, it vexes me.
Eliciting complicitly abandonment so recklessly.
Inadequate, inanimate, and sorely not compassionate.
So poorly though, thought lordly though, soul-infecting contaminant.
Sufficiently inhibiting the visiting of ministry.
A symphony of imagery: your bigotry so vicious, see?
Efficiently prohibiting the limits of soliciting.
Not riveting, just dwindling and dulling of my glistening.
Wisdom in each heartbeat pulsing through my veins
Mending every sorrow, comforting each pain.
Wisdom in each blood drop healed by Mother’s kiss,
Or her tear, or stroking, or her embraced bliss
Wisdom in each longing reaching from my chest,
Passing through the vastness, to her ear to rest.
Wisdom in each flushing—flustered, nervous, shy—
Hand upon my shoulder tells me she is nigh.
Temples made of glass are buried in the ground
Churches made of clay where cornerstones are found
Porcelain scriptures are holding up the arch
Splintering tokens are moulding frail the heart
Shattered spectacles, kaleidoscope of truth
Rusty microscope shapes confidence of youth
Mirror cracked and chipped reflecting state of mind
Standing on the spire is where you might me find.
This is Canada.
Soil be ripping up
Water is dripping yep
Forests we flipping up
This is Canada.
First ones we devastate
Brown ones incarcerate
White ones we insulate
This is Canada.
Rainbows are shining through
But ignore white, pink, blue
Each one they’re lying to
This is Canada.
Sorry a thick facade
Hiding the sickness caused
Poor to do business on
This is Canada.
Listen on my podcast
With silver arms and midnight hands, she pulled in outstretched reach
The lapping waves and hushed surf to bare the hidden beach.
Deep from the sand, she formed a star and raised it to her breast
And nursed it dear and tenderly, just as she had the rest.
She helped it grow under her touch, with wisdom she did guide.
Each stage of growth, each mature phase, filled her with love inside.
The time had come—it always has—for her to say goodbye.
Reluctantly, she held her babe, then perched it in the sky.
Listen
Leaves are turning brown, red and yellow, too,
Falling from their perch, exiting from view,
Touch upon the soil, lie without a sound,
Through the rain and snow, turn into the ground.
Flakes depart the clouds, icy arms extend,
Float through quiet air, silently descend.
Land on leaf and blade or the city street.
Final moment now, melt in mild heat.
Podcast
Full of dove sent from above and led by spirit holy
There to stand on desert sand, a place so meek and lowly.
Double score the hunger sore to clear the soul and body
Heart on high and single eye rest in the presence godly.
Break of dawn, the night is gone, return to peace deserted
Through my prayer my divine heir into my heart inserted.
Moonlight time, the summit climb, the thousands fed with fishes
Clear my mind and leave behind all of my selfish wishes
Shownotes
Reference scriptures
Matt 4:1-2, Matt 14:23, Mark 1:35, Luke 4:42, Luke 5:16, Luke 6:12
Talk on setting goals
Podcast
Rainbows on my shoulders as I’m cut down at my knees.
Every door I enter I find locked with guarded keys.
Each time my mouth opens, it is stung by swarming bees.
Every bridge I’ve builded is engulfed by flaming breeze.
Heartbeats shattered slowly in a patriarchal squeeze.
Lungs are ever gasping as each breath the robots seize.
Warmth inside me snuffed out by a suffocating freeze.
I’m once again collapsing as again my spirit flees.
