As per request and continuing with my poetry theme, I decided to post a poem I recently used in a sermon. “They laugh and smile and talk and embrace and I do too. But sometimes my smile covers a tear. And no one knows. Right now my tear is from an ‘it’. I’m sorry, so very sorry I did ‘it’. I feel like a broken record and the skip is the ‘it’ that never completely goes away. What would they…

I was moved by a great poem in Brian McLaren’s book, The Last Word and the Word After That. Boxes We like things boxed. Cereal, Candy, soap, gifts, and corpses. They seem safe when boxed, as are We. As is God and other Potential dangers. So we Sleep in a box, awake in A box, shower in a box, Refrigerate food, store knives, Drive to work, work for hours, where We stare each day at boxes, In boxed lives. Boxed-in…