The Mad Treehouse Man

There once was a fellow who lived in a tree
The strangest of men that I ever did see
He sat in his chair
With his long, mangy hair
And giggled and threw rotten acorns at me

Rain

In our suburban life,
The rain is an inconvenience
It slows down traffic
Gets in our shoes
Messes up our hair
But every time it rains
And I step outside
I can't suppress the giddiness
The childlike excitement
Of running through the rain
Shoes in my hand
Arms outstretched
Sprinting to my destination

The rain makes me forget
That I am now grown
Melting away the adult
And revealing the child
That still lives in my heart

My Mother Earth

Now I lay me down to sleep
Upon thy grassy breast
Your flowery breath, it soothes my heart
As I repose and rest

Your trees, my shade, your sun, my quilt
Your earth, my downy bed
My Mother Earth, you comfort me
As I lay down my head

Who I am

I am my memories
I remember those moments that flitted by
With the passing of time
That formed my past
That formed me
I call upon what I know
What I've experienced
To define who I am
To prove my character
Whether good or bad
I carry them with me
Baggage I can never release
Yet wouldn't set aside for anything
For because of my past
I am who I am today

I am present
I feel the weight
Of the flesh and bones I carry through each moment
I push through the time
That holds me down
Stopping less than I should
To relish in the moment
The here and now
The sound of a bird
The exhilerating feeling of touch
All sensations
Magnified in the present

I am my hopes
I see glimpses of what could be
And I strive towards my goals
I hold tight to promises given
That have yet to be fulfilled
And that hope
Yet defines me more
It shows what I hold dear
What I long to accomplish
And bring to fruition
It is my heart's dream
My soul's desire

I do not claim to be I AM
But yet,
My past
My present
and my future
Form my very being

Death

Death
That grey passing
The nemesis of humanity
Inescapable
It's cold fingers touch each of us
With time unknown
The only guardian standing against it
Unnatural
We grieve when one is lost
Our souls know it is wrong

But for the lover of Christ
It is a doorway
The mist of mortality
Fades to glorious light
And the heart is finally home
The Maker and His creation
Reunited at last
The veil is lifted
Sin is shrugged off
And peace and joy fly limitless

As once was written:
'Death, where is thy victory?
O, Death, where is thy sting?'
Jesus has trod you underfoot
And for those who follow Him
You are but the vehicle
To our Savior

I miss you

I miss you though I haven't met you
I miss the times I dreamt of you
I miss the thought of your sweet life
Nestled sweetly deep in mine

But though I will not hold you here
On this faint side of heaven
I draw comfort from knowing that
Now you’re both waiting for me

Fine

"I'm fine."
Words usually uttered as a lie
Why is it we feel we can't share
When we're not fine?
Do we dread the sympathy?
The occasional overbearing nature
Of those who try too hard to comfort?
Or do we want to appear that all is well?
That everything is fine
That nothing is wrong
That nothing can faze us?

We all know that we're almost never
Just fine.
So we shouldn't try to fool anyone
Embrace the possibly overbearing encourager
Their words might be exactly what you need
Accept that you're not perfect
For we're all in the same boat
And we all know that when 'fine' is spoken
It is usually quite the opposite.