Redemption’s Razor Edge

Who is this would-be Redeemer
stalking my own mirror?
Whether for good or evil
I remain steadfastly ambivalent.

Riding Time’s unfolding edge,
glancing forward for faith in better
surer lasting light
glancing backward darkens optimistic hope
to change what I cannot,
to fulfill commitments to grow together
as I might
were I not so all-encompassing alone.
Universe of Presence much too vast for home.

Even so, the present makes a safer home
than future’s pregnant womb
or past’s sterile tomb,
drawing these two faces together
in stigmatic messiah wound,
breathing in and out,
stifling each victorious shout
“Not yet!…not yet….again
my time unwilling to climax
without our Time Beloved.

Faith in fated freedom
struggles with choosing birth as death
to what might have been,
contents with choosing life
as if chosen through cosmic coincidence
of karmic evolution.

Redeemer hearts and minds
perpetually ride anguish surf of paradise.


Sacred Pause

What have our children become

that we stand by to not watch them burn

then bury still screaming

shredding skin?


What have we become

that commerce doesn’t even pause

no unholy terror of awed silence

horrific wonder.

Voices continue shrilling

keyboards continue pounding

parents continue screaming

corporate minds still beat

industrious rhythms

streaming enculturing strings

of power without

sufficient wisdom to simply stop….



Silent full breaths of sorrow,

crucifying innocent redeemers

into deaths of ignorant anguish


raging fate

too dissonant to hear

too desperate to bear.