Seen through many lenses

poetry and writings based on the truth of life. Everyone sees through their own lenses. Trade glasses with someone else and view your world…All of us are selective sinners….We choose the sins we are comfortable with, and judge others that commit the ones we're not comfortable with.

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  • build it

    Grief has a way of making a room out of the bodyand asking us to live there, We learn the shape of silencethe weight of a phone not ringing the chair that stays occupied by absenceStill, we keep going, not because we are strongbut because the morning arrives and asks for our hands Love is… Read more

  • it will come or already visited

    there will be a death in your life and it will not feel like anything you prepared for, it will not be distant or softened, it will land in your chest and stay there like it belongs you will lose someone and with them every future you did not even realize you were building around… Read more

  • xenodochy

    the weight settles softly, inside the chest, inside the breathsomething unnamed aches, without edges, without reasonit lingers quietly, asking nothing, taking space days blur together, carried by habit, carried by strainwe move through hours, half present, half fadingstill something reaches, even in the dullness, even in the hurt a stranger appears, fragile and distant, yet… Read more

  • to whom it may concern

    sorry… I’m sorry… that’s like throwing a plate on the floor and the ceramic bursts into 1000 pieces,,,, SORRY will not put it back together! apologies, mending, weaving, creating, rebuilding, fresh water, fresh food……. I’ve been thinking about what you’ve been going through, and I need to say this clearly because you deserve to hear… Read more

  • to you, from me

    There are no words that feel big enough for what you were to me, but I carry them anyway because it’s all I have to reach for you.When I think of you, I don’t just remember faces, I remember a feeling. A world that was softer, lighter, and full in a way that’s hard to… Read more

  • Hope Answers Back

    That hill became a door. that cross became hope, so do not tell me God cannot rewrite geography, He takes vallevs of trouble and builds doors in them, He takes places of defeat and plants vineyards in their soil, He takes what broke you and speaks in it until you sing again not somewhere else,… Read more

  • Dad

    He went to the hospital, and somehow the world decided it was allowed to keep spinning, like nothing had been taken, like nothing had been shattered. 2 People showed up with soft voices and rehearsed sympathy, offering phrases that sounded more like exits than comfort:“be strong,” “time heals,” “you’ll get through it.”, and my favorite… Read more

  • Rise Again

    When Paul came to Thessalonica and Berea, he didn’t rely on clever speech or personal opinion. He sat down with folks and walked them through the Scriptures, showing plainly that the Messiah had to suffer and rise again. As Acts tells us, he was “opening and alleging, that Christ must needs have suffered, and risen… Read more

  • Truth, not embarrassing,

    Being dependable quietly became my identity, and somewhere along the way I trained myself to swallow my own needs so I wouldn’t disappoint anyone. Not my parents or Grandparents, but people: MaybeChurch folk who never found good in any or always had to gossip, complain and whine like nursing babies on dumb-titsOrFolks in the community,… Read more

  • The prairie or The heart

    The wind does not argue here; it instructs!It moves across the plains like a careful lecturer, measuring its sentences in grass and dust. Red earth keeps its counsel beneath our feet, iron rich and quietly persuasive, a text older than any syllabus We learn by looking outward first, fence lines, weather, the patient geometry of… Read more