"Your King Comes to You" (Zechariah 9:9)

On the first Christmas morning,
the tears of God were shed.
Watching with excitement,
His eyes were misty and red.
He saw a perfect baby--His own perfect Son,
and He knew that this baby would be the only One.

He watched that little baby with perfect baby breath...those little curls of hair...brown eyes closed in rest--
and He knew that through this baby, all nations would be blessed.

God watched the sleeping child and a tear rolled down His cheek--
the Savior of the world was his first born son.
The sins of all the people He would carry on His shoulders,
He would go down to the grave and victory would be won

listen to the angels' song,
they tell of a great debut
today with power and humility,
your King comes to you.

Awaken the lazuras

shake the grave clothes out in the wind,
strike a match and peer about.
step away from the broken sin
and open your lungs for a mighty shout

its time to wake the lazuras within.

just enough space to hide a candle...

Go, bury your dead

everyone has a skeleton in their closet.
everyone holds a dead man down in the dark.
everyone has a hidden wound,
and everyone has cried a forsaken tear.

neighbors and brothers,
sisters and friends
holding secrets that break hearts and whose shadows only breed dread.

go, bury your dead.
turn on the closet light.
have a bonfire, its Guy Fawkes Day!

she's waiting...

Bitterness is a lonely wolf,
waiting in the shadows.
hungrily she waits
and watches your every move.

When the time is right, she'll slink right up behind you
and walk so very close.
eventually...
no one will know
which one is you, and which one is the wolf.

Bitterness is a great listener, so tell her how you feel.
She'll nod empathetically
while planning her next kill.

Bitterness is a wolf waiting for your call.
slinking in the shadows--she's plotting for your fall.

like jacobs' hip

i'm gun-shy of God
i am Jacob's hip.
i'm strong enough to strive
and shaky enough to slip.
i'm gun-shy of God.
gun-shy of getting shattered at the whim of God.

travel

i heard the midnight train go by
while lying in my bed
long and low was the whistle cry
and i awoke as if i was led

quietly i slipped outside,
and headed down the hill.
the pale moon was trying to hide
and the noise of the crickets was shrill.

the tracks were cold and my feet were wet
the dew on the grass had fallen.
cold and splinters wont stop me yet
'cause around the bend is callin'.