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Martha

I’m just so glad you’re here. Life is all train times and packed bags and task lists and oven timers. No time to rest, no time to eat, just flying on cortisol and green tea. Chasing the false gospel that when all is complete, when all is prepared and prepped and ready and tastes perfect and looks amazing, I will be at peace. I’m never at peace. I’m either on the hamster wheel, or at your feet. I wouldn’t be roasting these potatoes if you hadn’t been born, unnoticed by mos

Dec 24, 20252 min read

Breathe

As you breathe and the leaves fall, Yellow islands on green seas, So too do my walls fall As I inhale your love for me Cradled in silence Comforted by mercy Your face emerges When I stop speaking When I stop moving Constructing myself Returning to the child I hid so well Your arms around me Laying in bed Doing nothing A heartbeat in my chest Doing the holy work Of keeping me alive What I do is nothing What I breathe in, is life

Oct 17, 20251 min read

The work of a child

Leaves fall in the reflection of my glasses Swaying in silence Matching the trees in the window What is the work of a child? A child is a pillow A companion for rest A child sleeps And is carried in from the car A child stares out the window During long drives Watching the grass fall and rise As you pass the hillside A child provides the joy necessary To appreciate the chicken wings At the restaurant A child makes ordinary things Into little worlds, all their own A child spea

Oct 17, 20251 min read

Cobwebs

Like a cobweb’s lacy overlay Over a knobby trunk So too is your word My filter, my guidebook When my focus rests too far The ugliness pervades Only faintly, there are lines Tracing boundaries for each place Make them easier to swallow When the picture swallows me The truth illuminated By whispered lines you've revealed Treat me not in accordance with my lack of faith But by your abundant heart Whose riches drip off the words of life That you speak Through the line

Oct 17, 20251 min read

Breathe Again

I carried that prison Right into the wilderness That’s why it was so miserable I found comfort in the slavery Freedom in forced labour Now I don’t know what my muscles are for And where do I go? And who are you, really? The God over my slave years The God who freed me Who are you now? Is that who you’ve always been? The God who let me be enslaved Is the same God who freed me Being free’s not as easy as I thought I hate the choices, hate the endless cost Disapp

Oct 14, 20252 min read

What is a day?

It’s a white sheet of printer paper Equal canvas for a to-do list or crayons It’s jazz Dancing like chaos in my ears But finding perfect order as I lean in It’s light And I know the light is fleeting It only graces me with friendship for a few short hours A few short hours with permission to be productive And they always slip away It’s a fading dream And I swore I filled my mind with visions of a fertile future But at present, it’s weeds and soil and my unskilled han

Oct 3, 20251 min read

Silence

Brewing another cup In my mundane little home It’s nothing to see, really Limescale and peeling paint It’s the last of the teabags I bought in Japan A relic of a time When money flowed and freedom felt feelable Doubt put cracks in that pretty picture So beautiful how the lines came together Now the future is nothing The words the formed the story of that old life have ceased The silence was shocking It forced me to listen And each day is just that, a day No longe

Oct 3, 20251 min read

Mercy

How faithful you are. Your kindness steals words from my lips. It’s beyond words. When my own life’s destruction is magnified in my eyes and the blood on my hands leaves deep stains I can’t wash away, you say, Try again. When my heart is tenderised like meat under a mallet and it’s my own mind replaying pain in a thousand different ways, you say, Try again. Like a father, lifting me from the ground, assessing my scratches, bandaging me up and placing me back on the bike.

Sep 16, 20251 min read

Streams of gold

Those streams that once glittered with gold Have dried up. Maybe we found all they had to offer. Maybe you cut the supply. But they’re barely a trickle of muddy water now, nothing like the clear, crisp springs that winked with gold twinkling just below the surface. No life is sustained by them now. They’re drying up. And this land, which holds so much life, has changed so profoundly in such a short time. The sunset’s colours changed. What the plants need is different. The

Sep 5, 20253 min read

Idols

How many times do I need to worship things my hands made, before I learn how it ends? Why do I strive to see, and feel, and control, so I can craft, and shape, and mold The objects of my affection? Wanting to put reins on a wild God and control Him. You slip through my fingers so I search for what I can grasp, Always my hands, making me make heartbreak with sand. Why does it have to be what I can see, When to see you is to be healed from blindness? And to feel you is t

Aug 9, 20252 min read

Midnight Escapes to an Old Life

What am I looking for? When there’s nothing but orange haze to guide me to, or from, home, When the old me feels afraid to stay or to go When I’m caught in a limbo with no where to turn And my heart is a flurry of worries and words What am I looking for? Freedom feels obvious but it escapes me in practice Freedom has faces and hides behind masks and It escapes me, lures me out into the open and chases me, But when I turn around it’s gone So what am I looking for? Cau

Jul 29, 20252 min read