You can buy land and home across this world made of stone, gathering more into barns than the… You can travel and see every sight there may be
Granite grandeur draped in snow, soft whisper falls, clear water fl… No hand extends to measure time, no cares ascend, no worries find. For purpose fades into the still,
We wait for what we long for, we long for what we need. Impatience and anxiety give root to errant deed that grows to yield but heartache,
An old porch swing made once for t… Cool night breeze calling out to y… Ten thousand memories rise above, the sunset waters of our love. Just like the day slips into the n…
Curled up in the corner in dead of the night. Afraid of darkness and praying for light. Eyes peer from the ceiling.
What happens when you finally deci… to change what you’re doing and sw… Is it like when the fog clears awa… and you find where you stand? Or is it more like the unveiling o…
How long can rolling waters stay impure in their decree? How long can all the world behold the many signs they see, and not consider what is meant,
I wake to find a scene unkind, on vessel I do stand. Adrift at sea, lost, scared and co… in desperate need of land. “Why am I here? Where should I t…
Is it me? Is it real? The feelings that I feel... never seem to match the world around me. What if I’m lost in time,
“Do unto others”, the Savior once… a golden rule given to sum it all… But we seem to want something comp… like it is too simple or it’s not… But nothing more’s needed and that…
When you’re on an endless highway is there any hope at all that a destination will be reached… and you can finally fall back in the arms of the one you lo…
At the end of the day if the truth… we don’t own a single thing we hol… Not the spoils we gain, nor the go… Not the things we reap. Not the t… that we build upon, where we stake…
Was Earth created by God’s hand a… when scientific findings seem to d… Is it possible that all things for… The odds against are infinite so,… For no one thinks a tool exists wi…
How odd this ragged stranger seems who jarred me from my frozen stare… at dust and dreams and other thing… for which I spend my time and care… No other man hath paid him mind,