…the highest roads always and inevitably lead us closer to one another and to God…
conversation is a dying art.
Let’s breathe new life upon it,
I walked into your party with a Bible in my pocket
You didn’t care
You asked me to dance
You’re always asking me to dance.
I moved without a care in the world and you got a kick out of it.
Sometimes, the best moments in life are just letting go.
The Japanese have an art form called Kintsugi,
where broken pottery is joined back together with gold,
the break is not erased but highlighted,
pointing out that what once was severed was made whole again,
yet nobody pretends the break never existed.
I think of that sometimes, looking out through our magnificent
I see the sun shining through the Tiffany panes,
and I’m reminded that we too were torn and mended,
and the only glue is gold.
Take me there, to the place where Prince still lives
and all the animals are treated kindly.
Speak frankly to me, and let’s run lines.
Point out my weaknesses. Let me cover your pain.
Take my picture, so I can remember these
in a world of grease and metal
is a saving grace,
a flower sprouting
from the asphalt.
We mustn’t validate ourselves
at others’ expense
We mustn’t take to give.
We must instead inspirit others
Die to ourselves