It wasn’t the stranger in her skin

but the skin she didn’t own;

the mirror lied to her for years

in countenance unknown.

But when she learned her truest self

was trapped beneath that skin,

she stretched her soul and slipped it off,

re-molted genuine.



lollipop lilyYour words are pollen

Delicate and powerful

Clinging to my soul


They remain on skin

Long after leaving your lips

Tattoo of friendship



The Star at the Top of the Tree

potentilla frost


O Morning Star,

You who fell from heaven

to take on flu and scars and walk

within weather and time and disappointment,

illuminate this frigid Dark that consumes my blighted soul,

that I might be released into my Destiny, to relay Your reflection as

moon to your sun, declaring brilliance in my lineage, decorating Your tree.







Her head hangs

by a thread

eyes scanning dirt

as if to seek the soul

hidden under a crust

of regret

The burden of proof

on burdened shoulders

grips her gaze

with enough gravity

to tie her eyes to earth

but oh! humble heart,

you cannot outweigh


you cannot sink

beneath it

or plod past it

or hang low enough

to mar its magnificence

So look up

set your eyes

beyond this sin-stained soil

to the air beyond

your reach

for it is here

that grace



Life Has Carved Her Callouses


Life has carved her callouses

upon my tender heart,

my response was toughening

the epidermis part –

so soften me, oh Holy Son,

with springtime’s timely rays,

that roughened edges would not keep

my soul from grasping grace.