Some Clear Nights, I Have all the World

...I remember one time

the world looked so perfect that I wanted to open wide my mouth

and eat it whole.

--To feel its texture on my tongue, to taste the trees flavored

with the berry sunset, that deep red wine...

and cinnamon of the upturned dust of that distant gravel road.

Up here on this high, hill-topped porch,

I can see to the end of the earth!

And- should I descend to lay on my back-

all our galaxy above.

From end to end, the sky is mine...

and I get a glimpse of heaven

through all those tiny, glistening holes.

On Lawrence, KS

Oh, melodious city!

I breathe in your beat and walk in your waves.

Kansas’ welcome mat;

your tune is vibrant, your people free.

Your walks meet constant feet of angel-headed hipsters,

guitar-strapped backs,

up and down Massachusetts Street,

seeking music and a drink.

Homeless seek shelter in your friendly sidewalks;

you are forgiving.

Yellow sunshine motley city,

jayhawkers for the free state

to educate, stand firm, and liberate.

A bird eats breadcrumbs off my plate.

Gentle, unflinching finch

and me, together enjoying the oasis—

The Art of Losing

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;

it’s the only thing I know how to do.

I lost my home to come here and swore

to leave in a third

of a calendar year.

There is nothing I will let myself love;

I will soon only see it gone.

So now that he's what I am thinking of

I must make myself move coldly on.

And though on this porch

I can see to the edge of the world

and watch the sunset until 10 p.m.,

I must blow out this hopeless torch

and leave

(and try to forget about him).

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;

it’s the only thing I know.

First bitter—then numb—

then letting go.

When We Speak in Comfortable Sentences and Muted Tones

I wrote this poem a long time ago, and sadly, I have never (and will never) show it to the person I wrote it for.

You are

The caramel syrup on the whipped cream on my coffee.

You are

Daylight Savings Time—

The good one—

You know,

When you get extra sleep, not less.

You are

The “A” on that paper I didn’t

really think I deserved.

You are

The song I don’t tire of.

You are my external hard drive with extra memory,

and also

That fortunate umbrella

I happened to have with me

that one time it rained

when no one thought it would.

My winter flannel,

You are

that one perfect sweater,

soft and warm

that I found buried in the sale racks,

waiting for me, just my size.

You are

the leather bag I carry everywhere;

With it’s wonderful familiar smell.

Like the distant scent of home.

You are a comfortable chair,

like the ones at the movie theater where you can just sit and enjoy

a good movie, you are

a safe place to rest my tired eyes.

You are

that favorite childhood book

with its well-learned pages

and its memories of a kind of contentment

I haven’t felt

since 12 years of age,

but that you help me to remember.

And like those gentle naps in the quiet light of the

Autumn afternoon,

You are the rest that delivers me,

whole,

through a long night of painful study

in the library

far from home, but safe in the functional hut

you’ve built for me

in your restful heart.

It's all crazy! It's all false! It's all a dream! It's alright.

“God doesn’t call us to be comfortable. He calls us to trust Him so completely that we are unafraid to put ourselves in situations where we will be in trouble if He doesn’t come through.”

-Francis Chan, Crazy Love

I will be in trouble if God doesn't come through for me. But for once in my life, I am not worried about the future at all. It is not my burden anymore, my life... it's God's. For as long as He needs me on Earth, He will keep me on Earth. And if I just listen to what He's trying to tell me, my life will fulfill its purpose. So what reason would I ever have to worry? Some might believe that giving everything up to God would make them too vulnerable, but can we really afford not to give everything up to Him? The way I see it, the only way I can be absolutely certain that God will provide for me everything I need on Earth is if I am doing His work. If I depended on someone to do a task for me, I would make sure that he or she was well fed, able, and comfortable enough to carry out the task. How could I depend on someone who wasn't physically able to be dependable? So it is with God. How could he let us starve while we are working for Him?

My whole life I have known that God made me to do something great. So has He made all of us! For some reason I have always carried with me the inexplicable notion that someday I will be doing something... dangerous and unimaginable. But I know that just the act of living is dangerous. Everyday it may feel "dangerous" to let God be in control-- but I like this feeling! I don't want to be comfortable. I want to be radical. God doesn't conform to society, so why should I? And is it even possible? I realize now that by living life radically for God, something unimaginable will happen-- whatever God wants. Just the sheer act of giving up control means that whatever happens will be unimaginable, at least by me. Because what I imagined my life looking like is NOT going to happen. And I'm so relieved! I no longer have to worry about my shortcomings or how I'm going to get where I want to be... Now that I don't want what I wanted, I know that God will make sure what HE wants happens. And I'll be fine. I'll be better than fine. And though I thought I was going to feel uneasy about changing my life course for what I think God wants, the truth is that I have never felt such peace in my life. And that's how I know it's right.