stolen childhood

we were only children
when the stars came tumbling down
when the sky fell in
when the pillars of the earth crumbled around
our little children ears

we saw death, blood, and decay
in the places where we used to play

we saw the dead eyes open and staring
the dead mouths open and gaping
the dead hearts, wanting so desperately to beat

the dust and sweat, the dirt and tears
have joined together to make a foul mud
will you join us in making mud pies?
after all, we’re only children

(dedicated to all the children in Haiti and Darfur and Rwanda and Mexico and any other place where their childhood was snatched away from them and sacrificed to war, famine, disease, earthquake, or any other disaster.)

utterly changed into fire

They
conquered kingdoms,
enforced justice,
obtained promises,
stopped the mouths of lions.

why not be utterly changed into fire?

They
quenched the power of fire,
escaped the edge of the sword,
were made strong out of weakness,
became mighty in war,
put foreign armies to flight.

why not be utterly changed into fire?

Some were
tortured,
refusing to accept release,
suffered mocking and flogging,
chains and imprisonment.

why not be utterly changed into fire?

they were
[stoned]
they were
[sawn in two]
they were
[killed with the sword]
they were
[destitute]
[afflicted]
[mistreated]

why not be utterly changed into fire?

"This is my body which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me."
be utterly changed into fire

“This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this in remembrance of me."
be utterly changed into fire

as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup,
you proclaim the Lord’s death until He comes.

utterly
changed
into
fire

echoes of truth

"they are myths," he told me

"stories from someone's imagination,

worlds that cannot be,

people that never are,

things that have never happened"

i know they are

myths,

stories,

legends

i know they did not happen except

on paper

on screen

in thought

"but don't you see" i told him

"we need these stories,

these legends,

these myths"

in the stories, we see glimmers of hope

in the legends, we know inklings of faith

in the myths, we hear echoes of truth

that's why the story grips me

why the death of someone who never lived

makes me cry

why the first kiss of people who do not exist

makes me smile

why the life of someone who is not

matters

can you hear the echoes?