I’m at that point,

that hazy place,

where the heart, 

is overwhelmed,

by outside stimuli.

The introvert,

seeking quiet,

a place of serenity,

the sound of wind,

rustling the tall pines,

as I lay down,

in a meadow of clover.

Lost in the dreams,

as I stare into the clouds.

Feeling my soul,

as I drift on the winds.



It’s not that I ever knew,

much of anything.

It seems that mostly,

I blunder forward,

bouncing into walls,

giving myself bruises,

that never heal.

Looking about,

I see the unexplained,

those bits and pieces,

of color, of sound,

the smells of life,

that linger on the wind.


what am I,

amongst all this,

blundering ahead,

gathering bruises

Batter My Heart (Apologies to John Donne)

John Donne wrote so long ago,

“Batter my heart, three person’d God.”

Batter my heart, I ask the same.

Too many walls I have built.

A frame solid to keep loves light,

from shining in there.

Oh, batter my heart, God of love.

Let me know, of loves intensity.

Break down my false, sense of self.

Help me to see your glorious image,

in all creation, to carry the Cross I bear,

it’s burden made light by your love.

Guide my heart, to be open to thee.

To know of your grace to one such as me.