My Delicate Veins

I'm filled with blood.

Prick me
and I'll swell
out of my own
flesh.

Hold a light
to my hand.
See the warm embers
glow
in my pale skin.

The delicate veins
of my life.

God's Radio Hour

When he lost his hearing,
he began to hear
the voice of God.

Completely deaf,
he came accustomed
to the absence of sound.
Until God spoke.

He realized that his creator
was not speaking
directly to him.

Rather, he seemed to have
caught the right wavelength
to God's regular broadcast.

He searched for any references
or similar experiences.

But the few souls he found
who openly claimed to hear
a divine voice
were insane or seeking fame.

He tried to communicate with God.
Certain that he was chosen,
that he was special.

All efforts proved fruitless.
So, he relaxed and just enjoyed
tuning into
God's radio hour.

My Family's Ghosts

Strangers
moved into my home today.

The home
I grew up in.

Strangers moved in
with boxes and boxes.

So much
goddamn junk.

Unaware
of my family's ghosts
who fill the rooms.

They'll become
acquainted
soon enough.

My ancestors
who laugh
and dance,
almost alive.

Strangers moved in,
but it will
always
be ours.

Church

Whispers of Christ and sin.
Dry wafers and deep singing
in an ancient language.

A sacred place.
A holy place
to confess, to pray, to repent.

I'd like to speak with God.
Is this where I will find faith?

Blood wine,
creaky wood,
heavy bibles,
hundreds of burning candles.

I feel more human,
more inspired
by the sea,
mountains,
flowers and trees.

Seeing One's Cells for the First Time

I remember
the first time
I saw
my own cells.

In a petri dish
in a science classroom.

Single eye
pressed up
to the clunky
microscope.

The intricate
sight left me
in awe.

Curious as ever.