I want to know what matters to you,
because sometimes, 
the world seems like such a dark place.

Replace the word “seems” with “is”, 
and you’ll see what I’m really thinking. 

I find myself at times, when the sky turns darker,
reading stories and watching videos of disasters,
screaming and gnashing of teeth. Hell.On.Earth.

Being executed for some crime,
or for just being…different.

I wonder what happens when we take our final breath;
fuzzy memories collide with brain cells shooting off electricity.

I find myself being afraid of death once every so often.
I don’t dwell on it, but at times, there is nothing but 
contemplation on that fact that all life ends sometime.
Borrowed energy that we must give back.

We see footage of a gunshot wound; a collapsed body.
We feel its suffering in our bones and we weep.

But…I move on. I get consumed with life
and start….living.

I kiss my wife and say, “Goodnight, see you in the morning..”
And my eyes tear up, as this precious human being
has grown into my heart like roots taking hold of loose soil.
[though, sometimes the soil is hard.]

What precious life, in this world. 
I am driven by a Spirit. I say the name, “God”,
and supposedly, the demons tremble.
But…we don’t tremble anymore.

Well, I’ve seen people shake on the ground,
and that’s not for me to judge,
but my Love for God has my chest heavy;

Sensitive heart that shakes with violent words.
Reactions stemmed from making a point…
proving to be right…

There is such pain in the world, how dare
you complain about something so mundane…
and this resonates within my soul, an unrest…

I walk past a synagogue and breathe deep. This
place feels Holy - I still feel Holy on this sacred ground.
There is a Spirit guided breath that is 
quite intoxicating —
How I know it is, because when I sing from my heart,
it moves — I feel it move and beat fast. It itches.

What on Earth is this feeling? 
A fast heart beat of something so mysterious -
so pure and full of beauty, I place my hand against 
my chest just to make sure it’s still under my skin.

But beauty comes and goes with ugly visions of war
and hate and destruction. 
It consumes this place where my heart feels alive.

I see women and children…burned alive. I see men
being shot for a crime that is absent of forgiveness. 

I heard you this morning, whistling at a woman - what a sick, sick person
you are. How dare you turn that Child of God into a 
symbol of disgusting fantasy?

How I want to apologize…to say I’m sorry. For whatever
its worth.

For your absent father or distant mother…we sway
in sorrow for your loss. 

what matters to me is that I’m breathing 
and aching and I can feel my heart.
I don’t always know what it says,
but I am here on this earth.

I was born without the knowledge that being
born existed,
if only I could escape the knowledge of death,
but oh, what a Mystery - to live! to be known!
to love! to forgive! to sing!
To become this final act of Love and to be fully
reconciled to that Great Mystery. 

Grace and Forgiveness floods into my heart, 
as I wonder…

what matters….to you?