What I Need

I need to know you are (fully free)
more committed to the truth
than you are to me. My lips,
do they (in their most ripeness),
my hands (in their most gentlest),
my eyes (in their most confident
irises that say everything oceans can),
do they move your soul
more than the whole
heaven full of gold?

Would you (consider it sold)
be willing to put heaven (on hold)
out of commission, even the great,
because of some second-rate
coupon-clipping, get an instant rebate,
comfortable, safe, painless, touchless
dream that is a flat as warm week-old soda?
Colored corn syrup
just ain't what they used to make
in glass bottles, believe me
I used to believe
it would satisfy my thirst.

I need to know something
greater than me comes first
that you see Him in me
and me in Him
oh this One of greatest worth
that I am electrified by,
characterize my
inner man;
a lover learning
how to host, yes,
God on a heart-throne
(Bone of my bone)
that no one has ever seen
or known
until this fresh moment
(now flesh of my flesh)
when you see Him in on over me.

Two lamps talking in light,
luminescing in conversation
the darkness cannot comprehend
but only pretend
but only pretend
and spend all its time talking
to no one because
darkness has always been
about isolation, lonely people
are people that can't see
or be seen. Really
what can you see if you can't
see Him in me?

In the Light
we fellowship for free
but in darkness it costs us everything.
Even beyond what is ours,
losing the inheritance
for which we are given charge.
Oh the generations,
how they need you to see
the (in me) Immanuel reality
more than just a spell
of speech and dreams and beauty
what things are subject
to constant change.

How vast are His judgements.
How unsearchable are His ways.
Who can know the mind of God?
But we have the mind
of His Beloved Son.

The Future Part II

When we were young,
young ones, we loved
with tender tongues.
Look! We were here
once every eight hundred years
when the North Star rises
in the east, I can't sleep,
trying to keep
those days in my arms
bright and beaming I would sing
(wouldn't you too)
and seem and lean all of my weight
on invisible Arms,

arm-in-arm
after a thousand charms
You still taste sweet
to meet you, pleased
to believe (if only I believe)
something real about those days
leaking out of my arms,
my skin,
my pores.
I'll keep gathering them in like stray sheep
as the universe rolls on
cold and black;
the sunset of destiny,
looking back forever
to the flickering candle of what was
calling me,
pulling me,
push and shove
hands, eyes, and blood.


The climax of the cosmos,
the Voice that calls
up through the soles of my feet,
pleads and pleads
and sees and stings:
"sojourners,
wanderers,
travelers,
we flow."
"You are with Me,"
calls the Voice in the sunrise.
At night I dream;

past armies unfold
the battle of my days.
(uniformed, buttons, bayonets fixed
blood cherry red
in their cold cheeks,
breath condenses in the frosty air)
frozen in still frame,
when I wake,
frozen in my hot brain.

Here, in this maze of universe,
my story bleeds
through their perfectly preserved eyes.
In them I cross the icy rivers
with my newborn flag.
In them the story of the universe
sings through statue eyes,
showing me how
to step into the flame
of these last days.