Enjoy these poems that were inspired during my bus ride musings.
Far From Home
the barren landscape reminds me of home. home on this side of heaven. home when I'm so very far from home. where the low brush stretches out for miles, until it collides with my favorite little purple mountains. where brown and green doesn't look as dreary when you know it's secretly teeming with all kinds of life. the mesquite trees in the median and the creosote in the expanse, sitting and waiting for the next sweet desert rain. the Mexican daisies scattered perfectly about, clothed in splendor unlike any other. this place reminds me of home. and then it doesn't. it is home. and then it isn't. clear blue skies that expand upward and outward for miles, visibility seemingly endless. the calming presence of a dry heat that makes you feel cozy and warm. I can practically smell the outside world as it flashes by. separated from the familiar by a thin glass window and a couple hours. so close and yet so far. the sweetness of the Southwest. treasured. overlooked. quite dry. always there, awaiting my inevitable return. and it's in this moment that my diagnosis becomes clear. I'm homesick. I long for home. I long for that feeling of safety, of comfort, of what is known. I long for home. I long for something I don't quite remember, for something I can't quite describe, for something I am looking for, but I don't know what it looks like anymore, nor what it will look like so soon, what it will look like in a couple months. except for this right now. right now, this looks and feels exactly like it should. like home.
a very decisive thought (and an even shorter poem)
I have too much time to think on the bus.
covered
you are covered by the blood of Jesus. that's what gives you your worth. that's what gives you meaning. that's what validates your existence. that's what animates your life. not whether someone else can see that understand that or re-emphasize what the Lord has already deemed to be true. you do not have to strive to be seen. it's who you are. seen. heard. known. beloved. you don't have to compete for that state of being. it just is. you don't have to strive or prove or show off or be impressive or witty or captivating or hilarious or clever. you don't have to project in order to be accepted, to be loved. you can be casual. you can be nervous. you can be embarrassed. you can be silly. you can make a fool of yourself. you can be ever so human. for if you as broken as you are can find ways to love those around you cracks and all surely you can be loved the same. for at the end of the day, we are all covered by the same love by the same blood.