Poems

First appeared in Common Threads (2025)

Among the servers in the crowd,
Among the clattering dish-ware sounds,
Among the families’ laughter loud
Sits a man, alone in silence.

He stares toward her empty plate.
He stares and thinks it’s worth the wait.
He stares, expects her to be late
As he sits, alone in silence.

He knew anniversaries,
He knew happy memories,
He knew duets, her and he, 
As he sits, alone in silence.

He hears not the crowd apart.
He hears not her singing part.
He hears now her silent heart
As he sits, alone in silence.

First appeared in Samford University’s Sojourn Magazine (Spring 2013, Vol. XIX)

The blackbird flock
has come today;
such a pesky 
species of feather
to don the field
with their flutter.
Yet I feel, as
like their kin,
the flutter, no,
the thunder of wings
beckons me skyward.
Why? Do they,
the flitting cloud,
seek the gray above.
No. Tis the wrong question.
Tis better to ask:
how do they know the blue?

They yearn for it,
as we do.

So let's play the role
written for the stage of life.
I believe, with introspection,
we'll find it's the cosmonaut,
who, with baited breath,
will tickle the stars,
only to find cosmonauts
laugh with them.

First appeared in Samford University’s Sojourn Magazine (Spring 2012, Vol. XVIII)

Drop by drop, tear by tear
The water falls from darkened skies
To dive into the ground below
To find the seed where'er it lies.

Downward roots, upward leaves
Embrace the bright and coming sun
That soon will break the cloudy gloom
And find the winter here undone.

Once, below the earth you slept
With Death who stayed with you in sleep,
But now be stirred by Spring's return
That gives a second life to keep.

First appeared in Samford University’s Sojourn Magazine (Spring 2012, Vol. XVIII)

Inside is an ocean, a fading sea
Of which I fear and marvel
The depths, the deeper waters.
Mystery rules them, darkness haunts them
And impedes remaining courage
As wolves among lambs;
But I, with faith alone
And this heart that follows it
Like the tattered moth
To the beacon, move
Step by step, I close the gap;
Breath by breath, I say a prayer;
Heartbeat by heartbeat, I lose myself,
Letting the waters take me
But not claim me.

First appeared in Samford University’s Sojourn Magazine (Fall 2012, Vol. XVX)

Sometimes,
when all is right, 
I carry the past
in my pocket.
It stings, yet I hold.
It lies, yet I listen.

Then I consider
the mighty pine,
who does not suffer
its needles 
forever...
shedding them
like a winter coat,
littering the ground
with its hair,
yet it carries on...

All should learn
from the past,
taking its lessons
with haste.
However, in this 
prickly proverb,
one should learn
from the pine, as I,
and not carry the past 
with you.

First appeared in Samford University’s Sojourn Magazine (Fall 2012, Vol. XVX)

Winter seeks to have
claim over me,
as if I am
running from sunset on Mercury,
with its icy fangs
nipping at my heels,
yet I will not 
satisfy it, satiate it
in its hunger.
Though frost in its 
frigid frame
seeks to take hold,
I will not falter.
Ice is the purger's fire,
the survivor's flame,
and shall I take 
hold of that
marvelous warmth.
Even at the thought of sparks,
I feel elemental.

First appeared in Samford University’s Sojourn Magazine (Fall 2012, Vol. XVX)

I do not fear the wild,
the ones who crave the next
breath of air.
I fear the tame of heart,
and how the flame 
is only a puff of smoke,
and yet there are many.
I fear the leash
and its links that tether
to the rusted and frail,
to the worn and tired,
to the embers long
burned to ashes...

but am I only an ember,
sparked by the Creator
and given life by his very
breath of air?
Am I only destined to fade
into the dust as a fractal,
fading into the fragile geometry
that grows smaller with age?

I can barely grasp the dimensions
of all sides of reality, 
and yet I ever so believed
that knowing all
would soften the fading,
the shortening of the line
that leads from beginning 
to the end, the finite edge.
Critical errors are so easy
to come by.

So what is to become 
of me, a mere flash, 
passing and going?
Among the doubts, the fears,
and the haunting of mystery
and time,
one thing becomes clear:
I may be "only an ember",
but embers grow brighter
by the Source.

Only then will the night
shy away, bid farewell
to the ethereal shadow.

First appeared in Samford University’s Sojourn Magazine (Fall 2012, Vol. XVX)

Waves of paint
rush in,
completing the vision
as it ripples
with the shoreline.
The sun with 
golden flecks...
melting clocks
with glinting eyes...
The illusion is 
complete.
Will it last, or languish?
Will it frolic, or fade?

Then,
among the questions,
turpentine tides
correct the color.
Only two
stand firm;
only three
remain:
the canvas, the painter, 
and the possible new.

First appeared in Samford University’s Sojourn Magazine (Fall 2011, Vol. XVIII)

Aye, the pendulum tarries here
Fixed within the path it treads,
Tethered by the very fear
That paths like his would often spread.

Aye, the pendulum carries on
The burden of its shifting weight,
To only find that hope belongs
To those whose freedom's worth the wait.

I, the pendulum will now move not
And cut the bond that holds me tight,
So that momentum I have wrought 
Will no more disturb the night.

First appeared in Samford University’s Sojourn Magazine (Fall 2011, Vol. XVIII)

I look upon the glass tonight
To find the image of my face,
And at this very simple sight
I see a shattered, broken grace.

I look upon the glass to find 
Within the glass where crevice starts,
A crack within a broken mind,
A splinter in a broken heart.

Only one peace do I feel
As the seconds of the hour pass:
Only miracles can heal
The cracks within the looking glass.