Anthology from the Crooked Mile

What Going Outside Does to a Man

July 15. Was the sky always so broad? I never looked up. Peace emanating through my chest, like the beat of the wings of a Dove. No man can serve two masters-- by grace, through faith-- no exceptions, no hypocrisy. I'm sorry for despising you. You've got a good heart, kid. I'm proud of you, and I love you no matter what. Levitating, armor impenetrable. Nothing formed against me shall stand. Trickle, flow, river. I am honored to bear Your name. You've changed the books and with them the tempo. Yet the motif, even the clef is the same. Panic universal. Each 'prophet' a different path through the sea. All a spec in Your hand, a glimpse in Your eye... Sweet rest. Childlike notes plunked on a piano, my pen flutters the same.
July 26. The fresh air. Inhale. Exhale. The canopy stretching overhead. Christ Redeemer, in creation You are evident. A phantom critter zig zags on the concrete horizon, and just over this hill, I pray to see you.
July 30. If you are with me, I am overjoyed to be with you. If you are far away, I am overjoyed you are where He has you. If nothing else, I am overjoyed that, even if we dream it in different mediums, we dream of the same life together, under Him.
August 3. You are the Light shining through the stained glass window, in the wall of Your cathedral, which is our reality. Today I am grateful for the variety and vibrance of the hues which bask our residence, Your many aspects in which we are blessed to partake, parts of perfect expression, the image of our make. For the fruits of the supper are joy, rest, and sorrow. The sobbing in the night, the hope for tomorrow. And the cup of the Prince is the bitter wine of death, and the blessing of the children is caring for His breath. And the victory of the Lamb is the surrender of His soul, and the tearing of the curtain is Eden made whole. And the scorn of Hades is the rolling of the stone, and the shame of the demons is the brilliance of His robe. And the promise of Emmanuel is continued by the Spirit, and the Gospel still today is life to those who hear it. And all that we can say, with blessings ever flowing, as we feast upon the fruit, Lord thank You for the sowing.
August 5. Who changed? The muse or the man-- either way a holy plan. The work in question is a different beast. More concise, not so bleak. More abstract, less concrete. Not so bad a place to be. Glimmer, glimmer, on the shawl. Who's the brightest of them all? Nevermind, they're all really bright. Honestly, should've expected that. I mean c'mon, really. It's the righteousness of Christ we're talking about here. Not much else one could expect. The blare of the train's horn keeps pace with the beats of the drum. Icy, spectral keys fill the air. A slanted shingled roof with a satellite dish: 'Hello, hello, anyone out there?' The sun-bleached storm clouds smile sweetly. Living little world, crevice, cranny, nook, life teeming. Hey, this thing is pretty great?... ! Spin, spin, spin again. Hoping to see you my friend. Jolly shriek around the bend. Insects to the sound append.