my greatest poverty

like the moon losing its brilliance,
my desire for you today wanes

a longing that once came like rushing waves
stands still like yesterdays bottle of water

this vague, cloudy sense of you --
I consider my greatest poverty.

heaven on earth

your perfect craftsmanship of my soul is unveiled - 
i unravel in submission to your mastery

heaven rises in my heart -
my soul expands as a living tent of prayer

poetry of ancient intent, you and I become a love letter to barren lands -
a living message carried through heritage of imperishable seed 

barren lands shall blush and bloom;
oaks of righteousness will flourish

green trees of the deepest ends of the earth will be heard in heaven
as songs of love are sung back to you