The Heart

20 children no longer scream
in a place that their parents thought safe
And 20 children died by a knife
two years ago in a faraway place.

Was it 178 kids that were killed
by the drones near Pakistan?
And ones and two’s all over the world
With guns and knives and hands?

How many children died in a car,
Someone drunk at the wheel?
How many children died from the cold?
Their little toes could not feel.

Governments and floods and citizens too
Mentally disabled and sociopaths
Children have died since children were born
And we think policy change will help.

How many children were killed by two bombs?
During World War II?
How many children were killed in the flood?
That God sent upon the earth.

People get angry and shocked and scared
And grief tells two lies so hard to resist,
“I am the only one right here.”
And, “Never, ever again.”

But when the weapons are taken they don’t go away
They merely change hands in the night
And the hearts of men are still just the same
And there, is always the fight.

But wherever you are, know this is true,
“You are not alone.”
And whatever you scream for someone to do
Remember your own heart.

We break when we see the little ones die
In Sudan and Rwanda and France
In China, Australia, and Chicago too
We cry for the loss in our hearts.

And nothing makes sense.

I want it to stop, but I have seen
The record thousands of years long
In every place in every time
Something always is wrong.

That something cannot be addressed at all
If one refuses to see
Where the problem truly lies
And how it came to be.

But He Can Always Speak

From here
on the floor
with the grains of the wood
and the stains of blood
and whiskey
from here is where I rise.

Splinters in the wood
and scratches all around
become the grain of life
and so we find a path
and pattern
in the most unlikeliest of places–
on this floor.

There are lines that speak of order
even down so low as this
and it is God’s sweet grace
to open our eyes that we might see
the lines beneath the whiskey
and dirt
and blood.


But now I’ll speak of lightning dreams
Of thunder rolled upon the skies
of clouds that cover all the sun
and take the stars right from your eyes.

How the rain flies fast and true
Like arrows stinging in the fight
The wind blows like a horn strait through
And bears down on the flesh with might.

Let the storm fulfill its rage
As it sweeps the desert night
And days turn dark and nights are black
As fury seeks it’s very right.