only prayer

only prayer draws me up from this lacking, this demoralization. this devastation. only prayer can restore me and my faith in these times.

death of a weekend

I get an eerie sensation on a sunday night  standing on the precipice of the death of a weekend. I get the kind of rattled only a vanilla shake in an American diner can quell, listening to Elvis on the jukebox with friends, in a booth upholstered in automotive leather, flirting and killing off time.

flash on chalk

chalk drawn sidewalks told a story of the city on a sunday morning. the heat was beginning to climb upon us with the sun in the sky. i took some coffee and you had water and we walked three corners of the square. many of the artists were down on their elbows touching up. a kid who had not learned to talk looked in our eyes and pointed enthusiastically at some faces in the stone. no longer alone.

sunday. as is

no matter what kinda life i might have, no matter what hopes or dreams, i find reassurance on a sunday, now and here, laid out on the couch looking up, the stillness and quiet coming over me slowly with the rushing of air

and i realize, in the atmospheric space left by the panic and fear, forty years into what a madness as is, i may never be more blessed than here, than now, for this moment finds true peace in my heart