24 In

Here's a new one...wanted to have a record of this weekend...
-tower

24 In

Let’s pick up at 11pm.
White knuckles, 24 years in the making.
The final pitch…
Cardinals win!

My heart skips a beat
for glory
for love
for a game that makes us kids again.

And then, it’s like that
scene in Ocean’s 12.
Old friends reunite
as stories shuffle faster than the cards
we let loose and laugh
as I knock back a white chocolate.

And then, the air holds still
And the clock is almost afraid to tick.
We’re down to three players
I go all in.
The last card turns
as it all comes down to this moment, and…

Dang it, I’m out!

Night must always end,
And mine does just before dawn.
Hit the pillow at 4, but I’m up by 10.

Throw on an old grey sweatshirt,
Grab a shotgun
blast some targets from the sky
as the west wind
shuffles brilliant orange
while we shoot our shoulders sore
thankful to take two hours
to simply live and be.

Driving home, country roads
The majesty of the heartland in fall.
While Springsteen keeps me company
as I pass a cemetery
where two men lower
a casket into the ground.

4pm. If I don’t sleep I’ll die.
Up a couple hours later.

The house is quiet.
I make a simple dinner eaten late,
Around 10.

Surround sound comes on
as my favorite songs build and burn
skim some books, just sit and ponder
then pen these words.

And now it’s 11pm again.
and I’m 24 hours in
to this weekend, this jouney, this life.
And the moments are holy
and each breath a prayer
and if you’re blind to that
I pity you my friend.

For living is an art
we all sometimes abandon.
But the spark can always return
24 hours in.

Eternity in a Conversation

So, yesterday, I had lunch with Jamie & Tricia from To Write Love on Her Arms...as well as Craig Gross (XXXchurch.com) and his wife and two adorable children...and my friends Brittany & Ashley.

Here's what came out of that...

Late last night
I woke from a dream.
Where it was shown to me
that great men and women
are the ones who see the end.

Some find greatness
through intellect
some through strength
some through playing
the Russian roulette of fame

but a few find it
in humility.

Yesterday, our lunch was common,
but our conversation divine.
On grace and fun
Mercy and freedom
an existence far removed
from what we've been sold
all our lives.

Nine friends, some old & some new
feasting on bargain-priced chicken,
looking more like club punks
than churchgoers.

Dressed in black, living to love.

Each coming
from world's apart.
And I look at these friends,
each with a unique mission
yet one in the same.
And each of us understands
there is an end to these days.

For we've all tasted mortality,
witnessed the agony
of death too soon.

And even now, feel time
slipping away.

Yes, our bodies will one day fail
so we live in the now.
With a philosophy community.
We eat, we laugh.
Finding God in a road trip,
meaning in a friend,
hope in a song,
serenity in a word,
and mercy in the day.

We know we were born
for a reason, one truth
we'll never take for granted.

Even now
time passes
and beauty fades
while some build empires
and others moan and waste away.
But let the business of hope
be what we do with these days.

Even now
eternity echoes
the truth that we will die
and someday our graves will be washed away.
But, today we are alive

So God, let love
be the mark of these days.