Wednesday, July 13, 2011


There are times when a flame upon my crown
is not enough
when I would rather be consumed in it
melted down and recast
or again feel a passion of fire willing
to thrust my hand into it


You always have
a table reserved in me
in my empty space cafe

If your face was the sun
I would give my eyes to hold
your gaze
knowing you would be the
last vision into my memory

Blessed is the breeze now
which carries the rhododendron's breath
back to me and memories of
God's kisses locked in the lover's embrace


  1. Very Pentecostal opening, Brother John! I always enjoy reading your words and I'll try to swing by the Restoration Cafe a bit more often.