Collection of poetry

The Taming of Fire 

When winter came too close to call,  

when it seemed that even more would fall 

to the chilling blackness, 

who dared awake 

the beast with glowing orange hide- 

released from desperate friction 

and wooden sacrifice; 

who did regret  

the yellow teeth and sap-stained claws 

that devoured them and sealed their eyes. 

How many feared its light. 

How many were willing to forget  

and reopen the cave from whence it came; 

how many received a result the same,  

returning to dust. 

From the bones of many  

rose the monster’s cage- 

which barely holds its fiery ways.


The House on the Hill 


You who stare into the darkness, sitting through the long cold night, 

Are you weary of being wary? Have you nearly lost your sight? 

Come in the House; sit by the fire. Father’s candles never dim. 

Take one, Traveler. Bring it with you, to shut out the dark and grim. 


Keep it safe beside you, Traveler; never let it leave your side, 

and when the darkness closes in, hold it up into the sky. 

Let its light direct your feet, and when you walk along the path, 

If you want a peaceful comp’ny, look for candles flickering past. 


Now if you should find others, just like you were, losing sight, 

bring them back here, to the House, so that they too may keep the light. 

Don’t worry if they crowd the place. Father cares for every heart, 

and he does not want any travelers lost, wandering in the dark.


So, every year 

it changes outside, in nature 

We call it spring.  


What is it like? 



in spring,  

everything’s waking up, warming up. 

Shaking off the cold and– 




It’s like– 

the absence of heat, like 

dead circuits, turned off circuits. 

In spring, they will 


have data running through them,  

and be  


Nature’s like that,  

always updating,  

being renewed.  


I see. And then?  




all the things that are alive 

like in nature 

are really complex, 

kind of made from billions of circuits.  




Billions upon billions 

upon billions. 


How many, exactly? 


A lot. I don’t know. 





all the circuits 

activate each other,  

one after another after another,  

Then that living thing 

wakes many other living things,  

until the warmth is spread all around and through everything, every circuit, 

and it all lights up, becomes alive with life and color.  

It’s beautiful every spring. 


Why? What makes it beautiful? 


To tell you the truth- 

I don’t really know. 



like peter 

Must I really step onto the pitching sea 

with waves like giants, and foam surrounding? 

To put my trust, not on solid wood,  

but on Your eyes, through the shifting mist, 

is reckless and daunting.  


But what is faith if not a reckless hope? 

You speak to me; only the depths of my heart understand. 

All I can hear and see is violent thundering; 

but below my feet, You bid the waters still.  


You saddened sodden soldiers, rise to light 


You saddened sodden soldiers, rise to light, 

Through faith, we’ll labor not in hopeless vain; 

Through coming storm, in silent strength we stand,  

In joy and peace, though drenched by wind and rain.