Friday, December 22, 2006


A wall
fights the gentle patterns of life
grinds out its possession
a monument to conceit
deceiving in its rigidity
permanent as a pause in a melody.

All walls fall
but stones decay towards life
erode to resurrect the soil.

God builds living walls
music just within
the brickwork of my body is moving,
dynamic, busy.

I am a living stone
but soft;
a seed falling
into the grave of resurrection.


lily said...

I love how this poem functions (as the best poetry does)--arresting me to notice what I usually don't the music in my "brickwork".

There is now poetry posted up with the ads inside Winnipeg city busses. (What a great break from commuter humdrum.) This poem should be one of them!

Anonymous said...

my favorite...

Anonymous said...

You are so beautiful my friend.. and your poetry is still fantastic. It's timeless, and blesses my heart the message you share !

Anonymous said...

I am and will always be amazed of your poetic ways of writing and sharing your thoughts.
I Miss You and our worship!