flame to flame.

we are all born from blood and water
from mud we could have been formed
the air enclosed within, breathing, out and in
of heavenly descent

we are all but skin draped on bones
we are all blood rushing, muscle stretching
electricity in the brain
we are all creatures. crawlers. walkers.

houses of cell walls built high
to house glory
a home to the otherworldly

a human furnace meant to harbor
an unquenchable flame
burning and blazing and bursting forth
through our mouths as we

a flicker
a flicker
a brilliant flash of light
and a song

as heaven collides with earth
a twilight of glimmer betwixt night and day
when the supernatural snuggles near
the here and now

dwelling within the surrendered bosom of humanity
whose feet are grounded to the earth he was given
like a temple, like an ark,
is the power of the Uncreated force

we are all walking to die
as the days tic by
time like a hurricane, wind by wind reminding us
of the finite conclusion

radiate life force
bridge eternity into finality
collide life with death and
set sparks until we see
His wildfire

all while tending to the Light within
ashes to ashes. dust to dust. flame to flame.


to build again.

hello small child
Hair too thick for her head
Eyes too big for her surroundings
Hands too prone to cling

Born in iniquity
Shrouded under shame
As all children are
Burdened by the world

Conditioned by a hidden force
To build her own castle
Walls high, base deep
10 feet thick

Standing in the tower
Always going from a whisper to a scream
“You come in!”
“You stay out.”

Safety in control
Or so she believes
Small child
Reasoning too small for the opposition


With a gust a wind
Swirling, whirling came a song
She heard it from the heights
drowning her voice in its force

Where did it come from?
Where did it go?
In silence she stood
Small child, holding on to pillars tight

brick by brick, piece by piece
Her fortress blew away
Stones blazing past her
Burning and blowing and gone

she fell from her height,
To the ground below
so exposed, so afraid, so
Out of control

In the distance stood one
Lone brick
Aflame, alight, ablaze
Life radiating

Upon it was inscribed
and from its words
came a Man

His eyes white like the center of
A fire and from His
Mouth came a song
Warmth and strength and power

“Shall I build for you?”
He asked, His words coating her
Small, cold frame
She nods.

and up


a House that is Home.

God of gods.
King of kings.
Totally other than - greater than.
Giant among giants - You are.

from Your mouth - came winds of life,
swirling, swirling, hovering, making.
from Your hand - came help to the
weary, worn enemy. opposed. heart like grey stone.

we said help, there You were.
Your light scared away the shadows.
Your light, beams of love, foreign to me.
in that light was Home. You were Home.

day after day I search the rooms of who You are.
unstoppable expansion of what to Know.
unimaginable extension of what to Taste.
undeniable power radiating these Walls.

doors leading to gardens leading to You and I.
Your heart this House. Your face this Man waiting for me
so kindly on the bench of ivy.
You are Him, and He is You - but not.
but yes.

This mystery, it's what brick by brick
built where I find myself.

I scream, just to see how the sound echoes back.

Soundwaves transformed into song.

You sing over me. You take the ashes still lingering on my skin
from the lesser flames of this world.
the kind that char flesh. not like Yours.

from within Your Fires come purified love.

You are even making the mess from before into something beautiful.

I'm here, but there.
I'm in You - your walls stopping the wind,
but You send me out
as you dwell Within.

We are here, but there, but not.

Let's stay together, You in me, I in You,
Fused together, dreaming, doing, extending this kingdom
You are bringing, that which is Here.

You've won, yet You're winning, yet You'll win.
It's over yet it's not - and I'm in it for the long haul.

You in me, I in you,

Awakening - Part 1

I awake on my bed, the covers heavy upon me like 50 feet of ocean on top. Some might feel the weight as crushing, but it feels comfortable to my frame - the way a warm bath hugs a weary body. The air outside still cold from the winter wailing. That's what this town calls it - as if the mountains are crying for spring to come. Walls in my room are brick and they welcome in the outside wind as one would welcome in an weary old friend. "Oh, come shelter yourself from the night, bitter wind. Find solace here," the walls utter. I get angry at them, for a moment, as I lie betwixt alertness and dreaming. Then I remember they are only walls, built by the hands of men.

I look at the small glowing space in the door frame that's appearance drew me out of sleep. I fumble out of bed, and my feet hit the floor. I'm not sure who turned the light on so early in the morning, or perhaps so late in the night. Though I'm a grown woman, the eeriness of an empty room - and the single lit lightbulb still causes me to exit my bedroom slowly. 

While looking around, I'm confronted with the swirl of worries that wrapped me so tightly the night before. I often find myself unwinding them as they creep around my heart, even my lungs, like a rapidly growing vine. Sleep can be a sweet escape - until day break comes. Often the prayers, uttered under the breath, while washing dishes or brushing little teeth unwind them as well. Not always. I wonder if it's because the roots are not on the outside, but from within. 

While sifting through thoughts and checking the doors, I notice the door to the back has a small note on it. 

"The mountains are calling. Come quickly."

The note is small, and the handwriting rough. I rip it off and look around. Who wrote this? How did they know those words?