Matthew 18:3 (+1)

Tonight, I became my youngest son,

my oldest son now gone

My youth reframed, new joy proclaimed,

a lost returning song

 

Tonight, I became that little boy,

whose playpen sets me free

All toys reclaimed, no further blame

—to enter joyfully

 

(The New Room: January, 2022)

 

 

Potentia Mutare

 

You can’t fill your dry spots

out of a whisky bottle

Or chase away demons

with a dirty needle

Or change the future

pointing the finger of blame

The freedom within you

—the power to change

 

(The New Room: January, 2022)