Quiet

Train and skin and sin and I am sleeping,
Out of routine, splashed with caffeine
And the repeating and more repeating.
Blow through open windows, backyards, broken doors,
Empty streets, O Lord, blow.
Wind and horn, wind and rain, and explain
The difference between the light of night
And the light of day…
It’s only night is a little further away…
Like the difference of the clock and the train.
And the noise of the twilight is fear.
A droaning fear that Phinehas’ spear
Will slide through me and my thoughts.
I fear, I stand, I walk, I fear,
I sit, I turn all the lights on.
I fear: my thoughts. I walk.
If she knew she would not be sleeping.

Power in Silence

Eyes silent, room closed
Off ensuring solitude as certain
As an arctic seashore,
With my rash of shivers
From brash icy blasts
Matching the mood.

No breaks in this fast
From sound and social sin.
Only a speaker serving as a
Coffee table for a plate
That offers three slices
And a knife that can't cut them.

The wide-open window never closes,
Like Your ears that alway
Receive daylight shouts of praise
And by the night light the
Prayers of harrowed hearts,
Paranoid and penitent.

What I want to do I do not do,
Even in prayerful mood.
Holy half-hearted contemplation
Can't take thoughts I own
From the 2nd circle of hell
To highest heaven's throne.

So as my hands tear
This crumbling French bread
You must tear my heart too.
So in my search for Your will
I have only this bread to consume
And with all I am pray
To be consumed by all of You.