The wind is picking up speed The flames are starting to fan I don’t know where this will lead But I know where it will end And all around me the world starts to panic But I’m okay because You have led me here And this is all exactly as it was meant to be For today I know Your Salvation will appear So I will play in the hurricane I will dance in the big storm From raging fire I will reign I will joy in being born For today I am made In the fire I’m being formed After thunder comes cooling rain Yes, Your provision takes a hundred forms So I will trust You today For the pain of the flames will fade away when we see what they’ve wrought And the tempest and the hurricane bring me all You’ve got So I will sing a song of praise to You who are here with me Together we shall fan the flames so together we will see As we play with the hurricane.

Once upon a time there was a beautiful garden in which all of the trees bore rich fruit every month. There were flowers of every color and scent imaginable. The earth itself was a rich dark brown, and the grass was a soft as feathers. In the midst of this garden was a single poisonous tree. This tree did not look any different than any of the other trees in the garden. Indeed, its fruit was just as beautiful as all of the other trees’ fruit. Its branches were just as strong as all of the other trees’ branches. The leaves provided shade as cool and delicious as all of the other trees’ shade. But this tree alone could kill you. One day, a young man was walking in the garden and he found that he was hungry. Looking around him, he saw the beautiful flowers and felt the soft grass, but he found no fruit-bearing tree of which to partake. He continued walking in the garden until he came upon a grand tree. It was great and tall, and its sturdy branches were burgeoning with delicious fr

They say weeping endures for a night, And joy comes in the morning, But sometimes the morning doesn’t come, And it’s then that you realize You were never dependent upon the sun for your joy, That glory is not limited To the hours of the day when the sun does shine, And that there is as much value In the night as in the daytime, And so when morning never comes, And you float out into the infinite cosmos Far away from the sun you used to orbit, You find that there are other lights, Different joys, And yet all with the same Heart and Nature, New worlds and systems and galaxies to explore As you discover that The light is in yourself as much As you are in the light New stars appear on your horizon, And visions not yet dreamed Are held in your hands as you release the gravity That held you in bondage to the only sun you knew, Now you are unlimited, Not held in place by gravity, But an agent of your own making, Held in place solely by

The church building was not old enough to be on the historic registry, but old enough that two or three generations had passed through its pews. It had seen better days but was by no means falling apart. The sanctuary was always well-kept and efficiently cleaned by the church secretary at least once a week, and the classrooms—though sparsely furnished—were miraculously well-ordered for being inhabited by children under ten for at least two hours every Sunday. Even the “youth room” for adolescents with its outdated video game consoles and heaps of board games with missing pieces had a certain homey cleanliness.               Every Sunday, without fail, the pastor would come in after the choir sang exactly two hymns and the church bulletin was read verbatim. He would open his Bible to a passage from the New Testament and read through his outline, always ending with an inspirational quote, a poem, or an illustrative anecdote. There would be a recitation of the Lord’s Prayer, the choir

For all your life you have been told You can never pay for what you owe So you struggle and strive, work yourself to the bone Trying to pay back a debt not your own For Love does not ask for remuneration And Yahweh never wanted any kind of payment For the fullness of Love that He’s given to you, And He never claimed you owed Him any fruit He said you would show yourself for who you are By bearing the fruit that abides in your Heart, But He never asked you to prove your own worth And He never said you were under a curse ‘Twas religion who taught you and told you these lies That you had to make up for your previous life And prove that you had any reason for being By building up monuments to your new King Go and save all the nations! religion did cry, By putting them in bondage, adding to our lie, Like the Pharisees seeking out one proselyte And making him two times the son of the night Build up the Kingdom! religion commanded Using yo

Tonight,                                                                                                              I had someone ask me if the pain were any less Now that it’s been six months since the loss, The biggest transition so far of my life, And I realized for the first time That this pain will always be this deep part of me, It will never be any shallower— Though perhaps it may seem so as I grow bigger— It will always be there It is a pain inherent with growth and motion and changing, Not one based on misunderstandings that can be cleared up with a little communication, Not one based on certain actions that will resolve once these actions are changed, And yet, somehow it is also lessened now, Not in depth and intensity, But in the number of days it centers my life, In the frequency of agonies, In the comparable size of itself to my whole being, For this pain is just a small part of me, A sign of my own maturity And my ability to o

Once upon a time, once and for all, and before time itself was The Great Puzzle Maker, His fame renowned throughout the worlds by His ability to create puzzling mysteries able to hide the greatest treasures ever known in plain sight. The mystique of His trade buried deep in the complexities of design yet beautifully simple in execution and form hidden from all except those with the singularity of eyes. It was the Great Puzzle Maker’s greatest desire to build the most intricate of all puzzles, one that would defy all explanation--a puzzle that was deeply intricate, uniquely inseparable, and inescapably dependent upon not only the fullness of the design, but also each individual piece. Ego, the Great Puzzle Maker, wished that each piece have a choice. In doing so, He could create the opportunity for each piece to share the treasure inside and discover the boundless treasures of the other pieces and of the puzzle and also use the treasure for themselves. Ego’s intention was for each piec

The signs of the end of the age have been here for ever so long, And I have been foretelling what I have sensed in my spirit, I am awed that men are not out in the streets exclaiming at this transition time, And I wonder if the ancient people were aware when Yahshua died That in that moment the entire world changed, Those in Rome and Athens, those in what would be India and England, Even in Jerusalem there were some who did not know… And today as great men pass on to other places and times, There are just as many signs Heralding the end and the beginning, A whole new world, a New Covenant is coming, And though like the disciples we weep at what is ending, We also have sight to rejoice at the beginning, For we will not be like Mary Magdalene going to a tomb to anoint a dead body, And we will not be like Simon Peter returning to his boat to take up former trades, But we await with clear anticipation the surety of Resurrection And the beginning of an Age

It was said that all the world’s a stage, But what’s the purpose of the Play If not to show the Love of Christ, The reason that We are alive But what is my role in this expression And can I get a full perspective, Am I a character in the Play Or is there more in vision’s way? I am the person on the stage My life’s full view for some wise sage To take and know Love’s fully beauty As it is expressed in me And who is greater here to know Than the one who’s lived it so, My life shows me just who I AM And the Love with which I made this man Yet I am the author of the Play, I wrote my life to be this way Put every detail, every nuance All the Truth both past and future I am also the audience Observing my life from great distance So I can see the Tapestry, The fullness of the Life I lead As these perspectives come to One I learn the greatest depths of Love And ever-growing, all-increasing, I see the Play is never-ceasing

Grief is a delicate balance Between touching a wound just enough To allow Yahweh to heal it And going so far into it That you find yourself weeping in a ball on the floor for weeks on end, Between examining the hurt and the feelings of anger and betrayal And letting bitterness and distrust grow, It is a tightrope I walk daily, And the tiniest things open wounds I didn’t even know were there Until I feel the pus oozing out of this gaping hole in the pit of my heart, Sickened by the feeling of this poison running through my veins, But encouraged that the wound has been lanced And the infection can be cleaned out Progress is painful, And allowing Yahweh to open wounds is frightening, But today I am not on the floor, And maybe that’s enough of a win.

I Am a baby bird, And I feel the eggshell all around me, Cracked and broken in its various layers And there are some holes Through which I can see sunlight, But I cannot see enough of the world outside To know what it will look like, And the only thing that I am sure of Is that it will not look like the world I’ve known Here within this egg, I am half-hatched, Breathing the air of a new dawn, But still covered in some places By the egg’s protection, And I ache because I must be born, Long to be born, And yet to do so I must destroy What little protection I have left, What remnant of the world I’ve always known But I was made for greater things And it is no longer time for me To live within an eggshell, I must hatch and see the world around me, Eat and drink and emerge Blinking into the sunlight, And though I cannot fathom it yet, One day I shall fly , Soar far above the world I’ve always known, So far beyond egghood that I

Walking through Walmart and seeing the signs, The cards that say “Happy Father’s Day” in blue and silvery letters And the mugs that say “World’s Greatest Dad,” I stop and think Oh, I should… But then I remember that I should not, That this year, for the first time, I don’t need to buy a card That extols the virtue of fatherhood, Or—more likely with my dad— Tells a corny dad-joke that he would totally appreciate Because that’s the kind of humor he had, I don’t have to purchase a fancy tie or a set of power tools Or a silly mug that says “World’s Best Father” which he would never use because he already had more coffee cups than he would need to use in a lifetime I won’t be going to a Father’s Day dinner with all of his favorite foods Or pretending to watch NASCAR with him While I really play on my phone (Because watching a bunch of cars going around a track over and over again is so interesting) And it doesn’t hurt as much as I expected,

They come in a myriad of colors, An abundance of forms, And they have countless inhabitants Grey turns to lavender and pink, Which give way to orange, coral, and finally a golden yellow that ushers in a pale blue that is both crisp and soft, cool and comforting Yellow and blue may be joined by wispy white, or iron grey depending upon the day and the season Sometimes the yellow is hidden, maybe for a moment or perhaps for a long time, Covered by charcoal, iron, and ash, And every night the yellow disappears, replaced by inky blackness, with soft pinpricks of dazzling, beautiful white Yet the skies remain the same! Layers of infinity expressed in various ways, And many different being sojourn therein, Some unexpectedly, For we were born without wings And yet thence we fly, Even beyond the clouds Oh how life is like the skies! Infinite layers of Light and nuanced expressions peppered with darkness, but always the same sky, no

Hello! I have recently been able to speak at the Fayetteville Public Library and they recorded it on Livestream. There's something about listening to spoken-word poems instead of just reading them, so I'm pasting the link here in case you wanted to listen! <3 Cassondra https://livestream.com/faylib/2ndSunday/videos/172984295

Do you know the plans I have for you? The grandeur of the Tapestry We weave The fullness of My Love for you Is greater than anything you’d ever dream It comes through blessing and through joy Through sorrow and loss, too All possible ways I employ To send My Love to you And even that which isn’t Me Becomes all that I AM Even through darkness you will see The greatness of My plan To love you and be loved by you To know you and be known Oh expression of My Truth, You shall be glory shown.

Freewill and sovereignty oppose and we’re not sure of all we know As we attempt to navigate this life But I’ve a view some steps above, so I can see the shape of Love As by my faith my vision is made sight And I’m subject to the stars of fate, but I’m the one who chose their place Partnering in spirit and in truth With He who made us who we are, now I’m creator of the stars And together We make all things absolute Walking on a path that’s straight, I can seem to hesitate I’m not sure of what I don’t understand For I’ve complete freewill and choice, but sovereignty still has a voice And my life’s path has already been planned But if I ascend above the Tapestry, beyond a single Thread I’ll see How choice and sovereignty are really One For before time We made Our choices and yet right here in this moment We alter works that have always been done Now as the maker of the stars, I can attest to where We are As I bend and submit to Holy Will Who

Faith is not a battle tool, Love is not an option Yahweh’s Word does not need proof But it will always cost Him Choice to make the worlds that are Dying lets us be And We shall manifest Our Heart So Our worlds can be seen Faith lets us lay down Our Lives Courage so to make Worlds of neverending Light As they of Us partake The great exchange of give and take As Life now comes from death This is why We need such faith; From battles we can rest.