Tuesday, March 1, 2011

First Poem on Faith

I played chicken on the tracks

for thirty-two years.

Stretched my leg along

the lip of the edge.

I was homesick for a home

I couldn't even fathom,

didn't even know I needed.

If I saw a woman on the street

I wouldn't recognize the God-in-her,

but a poor, forsaken soul

in need of help.

Thus: I was looking at myself.

When I opened myself to God

there was a WHOOSH, a huge exhale

of holiness, a great voice saying

you belong with me

not at the ledge

and suddenly I knew, I KNEW

my steps had been backward,

away from truth and divine love.

I inched closer to him, like a baby to

a new father, ready to fly

under His wing.


  1. I had to smile at the WHOOSH. That's the word that a friend and I use occasionally when referring to the Holy Spirit.

    Sounds like Mr. Whoosh got ahold of you. :-)

  2. BEAUTIFUL!! Well done, my friend. May this bless many.

  3. Wow. :) This is amazing writing. And it's the story for many people who run from God for so, so long--I'm glad you're giving them a voice. I've suffered from depression, too, so I'm coming back soon to read more. BTW, congrats on your piece being spotlighted at THC!


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