Made by Hand


Sitting quietly in the Boston apartment,

the need for life giving water is never considered,

Just assumed.
In harmony, seemingly, with nature.

The dam holds the needs of thousands,

Bottled up, collecting the gift of life,

One drop at a time.


Our need for living water being insatiable,

As love should be.



Alterations are a daily chore.

Call this person, visit the other, and follow up,

get to work, deliver this document, put that one on the calendar.


Each activity making a slight alteration in what could have been,

Making a day more complete or less so.

For what purpose?

Survival or routine;

servanthood or servitude?


Some alterations take years, but are worth it; such as moving closer to God.

Towards the Light


It’s not a matter of how close I am getting,

Walking down this tunnel,

It’s more where I am.


Can I see more as I get closer?

Yes, but the light is so bright … it hurts my eyes,

And illuminates all my past;

Plus reason wants me to stay where I am.




I know what the ground is where I stand,

I can trust myself and God evenly here,

But not when I move forward.


Moving forward,

I have to trust Him more than me,

To want to be closer,

More than being safe, holding onto what I have.



I can’t stand still,

I have come this far,

And still want to be closer to Him.


The only way forward is trust.