lostdirectory

[lostdirectory]

i want to die with my eyes wide open. 

i suppose it’s a beautiful thing, returning to a god who i will never know with sight. i suppose i will hear him calling to me. “sleep,” he will say, when i have reached a century and am old, “let me take you to a better place.” i think my eyes will be watery, by then. it will be hard to see. 

but if the presence of god is light, and goodness, and joy, like the scriptures have told, then i would like to die with my eyes wide open. the light will blind me, consume me, pervade me. but i will see god, the moment he takes me into his hands and coddles me like a child, and it is then that i will cry, and i will believe. 

[lostdirectory]

it spins the needle

it spins the needle—kneads the dough,  counts the days as they roll—by— one. three? ah another year’s gone by.  

it comes alive at first light tucks monsters in bed sweet night swathes a baby furry— but to silence his plight

it would pluck the powder from a bullet  pull it from its sheath:  the flesh of its body so tender so frail but sings the strength of a thousand men?

it does: all so i am a little less afraid. a little warmer so i am able to taste what it means to love, and be loved in return.  it is not a weak thing, cannot be.