Two Bodies

Wounded, bleeding, flailing
and even my best success
a failing.
Slipping, sliding
inching ever closer
as the shoreline
slips away.
Grasping at straws
as the one who grasps me
breathes into my gasping
breath.
My body broken
dies a little bit
more today.
My body broken
by hands unforced.
My body broken
by me.
And yet your body
breaks and bleeds
every day
for me.
Your body broken
calls out to me
to die
to me.
Your body broken
nourishes
my body
with new life
that my old body
can never see.
The old wounds of your
new body
call to my wounds.
Bloodied, broken, bruised
still seen
still touched
still real.
Renewed, restored, reborn
resurrected.

Precipice

The world,
and by that I mean
God's plans,
is bigger than,
downfalls
pitfalls
recessions
and
depressions,
individual and collective.
Thank God.

Precipice is an edge
we always
stand upon.
Whether economic,
moral
spiritual
or political.

Always we stand
or fall
depending on
the ground upon
which we stand.

Is it strong?
Is it sound?
Does it stand beneath me?
and ultimately,
does it stand
above
me?

The hands of God

When the poorest of the poor
have called upon you,
have we been there?

They call upon your name
knowing you will deliver.
Do they know that you have called
us who are called by you
to deliver you
to them?