SHATTERED SHADOW

when laughter feels like sunny tears

it's warfare all the same

rise on the cliffs with me at sunrise

they said the starry sky and the ocean can't be told apart

where one ends and the other begins

a blurred horizon isn't always a bad thing

so swim , | beloved mine | , swim

i hear the train rolling through kremmling.

barefoot on a lush soccer field

the only green grass in town

piano falls under gentle fingers

settling on the gravel like aspen leaves

you rain me with gold as my lungs burn.

keep up, keep up

hurry up and wait on defense

run at me giggling

because you know you'll get past me and score.

burning from first oxygen

a child learning to pain-respond

to be affected by affection

kodee braids her hair like mine

and spero waves flags.

we all stand tall

nodding with the spirit, please come

we're growing mature in you

and you clothe us white on the new moon

i'm running with my camera

to capture the unspeakable light at dawn on the dust-beaten paths through the grass and the cliffs and the river, to capture a god who can't be described yet holds all things together by a word

framing.

i hear new sounds

the old voices have stilled. silent.

my ears cracked with the altitude and now I hear:

krik singing,

dave laughing,

jen making jokes,

amber listening with questions,

joy leading,

brayden whispering,

tom prophesying,

matti calling me in church,

allison holding me,

corey breathing,

kelsey crying,

thadd wishing me luck at the game,

cynthia sitting beside me,

robbie standing beside me.

unseen and then seen.

the picture of yous.

the seeker had a dream of swinging on a cliff

you swinging to her right, blushing

do you wanna jump?

swim, seeker, swim

and you stand beside me in blond hair.

unseen and then, suddenly, seen.

"i miss you."

my head falls on your chest. the weight of the world.

you ask rebekah jordan to draw from a deep intimacy well you bore

for the weight of the world.

unseen and then seeing.

the eyes of the lamb

and the nose of the lion.

and the brothers see me as a mature sister, you said.

light light light as you paint for me,

dance for me,

sing over me,

play with perfect confidence,

call me home,

build me a garden,

open windows as the seasons change,

fill the room with fragrance,

rest a hand on my shoulder,

cry with me. ,

hug me like my sister,

dribble uncertain like my brother,

hold my head,

wipe my tears,

baptize me with a water bottle.

"it's not an expectation." 

"may I have time with you?"

i can't stop seeing you.

every moment is locked into the story.

and you say we'll rewatch it and tell many more

as we swim the eternal seas

now we prophesy in part, breathe in part, as we climb.

muscles and chest sore

you live the moments in me.