Day six

You can't turn people into poetry
Cross out their flaws and pencil in better endings
-better middles and better beginnings
You can't rewrite the words that linger
or rephrase the ones that puncture
You can't sit waiting on fence posts
hoping to stumble across beautifully crafted lullabies
It'll come with time
The waves smooth out jagged edges and
you'll fall in love with the soft curves of humble apologies
You can't turn people into poetry
but you can hold them quietly
Listen to their stories and lay in their light
Things will rarely be perfectly right
But they'll collide with you willingly
Intertwining lives begging to be poetry

Day Five: You Are

I wanna love you- selfless as the sun

Trust you as I trust these mountains ‘neath my feet

You are my favorite hymn sung from Sunday morning pews

I am too much to love; you are far too much to lose

You are newspaper ink and orange juice

in clean, clear jars

You are

I wanna listen to your words as I sing to the rain

Soaking in each syllable that leaves your lips

Flipping through Bible pages in coffee shops

I am not who I ought to be

But you make me want to be

More than an apparition; you make me want to be here

I wanna trace the freckle constellations on your skin

You’re the only one I’ve let into this ribcage of mine

You are morning sunlight

Crawling through half-drawn curtains

And dancing on my cheekbones

You are more home than my tired feet have ever known

I wanna love you-selfless as the sun

Trust you as I trust these mountains ‘neath my feet

I want to sink my roots down beside your’s

Grow to let these branches hold firm 

I want to be the morning breath you kiss

Before you spill coffee down your button down

You are laughter spilling over on hard wood floors

You are

Day four: Forget-me-not

There's grace in forgetting
and forcing pen on paper
Spitting words out and trying to
make it all better
A bouquet of forget-me-nots
Holding on
to whispers of night
Daylight dreaming
and waiting, simply waiting
Dreaming of all that is and all that will be
There will be abundant hope
in times to come
and times right now
Somehow

Day three: Friday

Today was sleeping in til 7

and laughter that bites the bitter wind back

Too tall stacks of library books 

that will never be read by Monday

and pieces of home that get tacked on the fridge 

Perfectly timed L rides 

and real, real chai 

Today was mutual venting 

fidgeting with empty coffee cups 

Filling bellies up with apples and tacos and butter chicken and rice 

(not all at the same time)

Jim and Pam 

Wool socks and not enough layers

Mealtime prayers

Grace over and over 

Resting on shoulders 

Today just was 

Day two

Oh my heart sings songs my mind knows not
Too caught up in its web of anxieties
And my soul sings slightly off key
These are the days when heaviness sits
in a storm of protest
clouding my chest
It is not well but You remind me
Of a glory so bold it flooded the earth
So I'll sing and I'll rest
And I'll call Your work good
Even when it doesn't seem to be

Day One: Hopeful Words

You are something
Everything
windswept and voices kept quiet
You are nights that pile up tea cups
and mornings that start with laughter
Your heartbeat rings free from the pain you've known
You're home- I know it seems like a rather unassuming place
This humble space
sandwiched between "we've got no idea" and
sweet, sweet bliss

It will all fall apart before you finish counting your blessings
but keep on counting
Out of the ashes and rubble you'll learn how it feels
to start anew, over and over
The wildflowers in your heart will surely bloom again
I can see the darkness in the valleys beneath your hopeful eyes
But the times ahead will be filled with a grace
that washes over your fumbling hands and forgetful heart
It's a start

And I can guarantee there will be
Broken, hopeful people to walk with you
To point you to Jesus and sunlight and the good stuff
made of spontaneous adventure
You will wander
You will trust the familiar feelings of lust and longing
and comparing all you're not to all you ought to be
Let it be

You'll burrow into the achey kind of sadness
that makes you crave being alone
but your bones are Sacred
You are stitched together with hopeful words
Held close to your Maker
Let it be
You're a holy sinner not a Savior and it's not your job to be
perfect

Take that in, press the words upon your spirit
You'll make more mistakes than you can list on your forearms
But you'll be strong
You were made to walk the waters of reckless abandon
Give up your planned out plans
and hold fast to the hope that once you've been lost
you'll surely be found
You're home now