The story of my life, I can't quite comprehend
Don't tell me if you know how it ends
When everywhere you go feels like a mirror maze
And you're not sure how you're stuck in this place
                   And you've got no where else to go; you're lost within your own home
                   You're trying so hard to win
You keep trying, it's embarrassing
                   And how, you don't even know, but you know you're off the track
                   And how did you get in here? Thinking, 'how did I get in here?'

I'll help you break the walls down
I'll help you break the walls down
And bust you out, and take you home
Believe you me, you are not alone
I'll help you break the walls down

Does anybody know a February wind?
I was hoping that by now we would be at the end of this
When you open up a book and read a thousand lines
But you don't really read, you just move your eyes

And all the weight we carry
Will disappear and I will willingly
Embrace your soul
Lay your head
So come on home,
                      come on home,
                                    come on home
I'll help you break the walls down

~"Walls" by The Rocket Summer

poem for a pensive Sunday

The Lord feeds some of His prisoners better than others.
It could be said of Him that He is not a just god but an
      indifferent god.
That He is not to be trusted to reward the righteous and
      punish the unscrupulous.
That He maketh the poor poorer but is otherwise undependable.


It could be said of Him that it is His school of the germane
      that produced the Congressional Record.
That it is His vision of justice that gave us cost accounting.


It could be said of Him that though we walk with Him all
      the days of our lives we will never fathom Him
Because He is empty.


These are the dark images of our Lord
That make it seem needful for us to pray not unto Him
But ourselves.
But when we do that we find that indeed we are truly lost
And we rush back into the safer fold, impressed by His care 
      for us. 


~ "Psalm" by Reed Whittemore


Why is it that whenever I ask questions like these, I ask myself, instead of Him? As if I had any of the answers.