A Church in the Woods

A reverent moment surrounded
by the irreverent structure,
A house of your beliefs.
The voice of the preacher
screeches over God's voices
echoing in the trees.
Your lessons are shrouded
by someone else's life.
The truth in the house of God
is the resurrection,
returning to beginning.







(original draft)

A reverent moment
Surrounded by the irreverent
Structure housing your beliefs.
The voice of the preacher
Screeching over the voice
Of the gods that echo in the trees.
The lessons of life are shrouded by the
Lessons of someone else's life.
The only truth in the house of God
Is the resurrection of his life,
Returning to his beginning.

Heaven

Drifting away on a wooden cross
Sharks smelling blood
Your turn for the afterlife
In the belly of a predator.
The ultimate irony
Is that you will live on,
As a part of something
that is hunted.

I Forgot

The last poem written for you
placed in a bottle
floating away in your regrets,
A journey across the never-ending ocean.
As I sit,
warmed by the sun
Surrounded by gulls
Wrapped in peace
I read a book not yet written.
A light of discovery
Illuminating the onward march
To the next adventure, or the next war.









River (this is the original draft)

This is the last poem
Written for you.
A chance placed in a bottle
floating away in your regrets
from the hellish glacier
to the warm coast.
Sitting in the sun
Surrounded by gulls
Wrapped in peace
I read a book
Not yet written,
A renaissance
Of discovery
Illuminating the onward march
To the next adventure,
Or the next war.