The Adventure

Live Your Story, Explore Your World

As I Lay Waiting


One more night slipping into

the small hours of the morning

where dreams and truth can merge

and reality is rarely obvious.

Here the stillness is serene, yet disconcerting.

It amplifies the emptiness

present in your absence.  I wait

with mounting anticipation of your return,

knowing I cannot surrender to the shadows

and fall into their dreamscapes.

Without a companion

I lay waiting, catatonic,

longing for my guide.



If you live up to their expectations

will it make you happy?

If you find your hopes and dreams

will it make them happy?

Are they your dreams, or their hopes?

Lost between obligation and aspiration,
adapting to each situation
diluting your intentions with others ambitions;
a marionette operating under societal instruction.

A tug on the strings pulls on your heart.

Stepping away against your will…

Acceptance versus desire,

Which will you follow?
With which do you lead?

Your Playground


An undiscovered world

awaits your big blue eyes.

It’s beautiful,


and at times terrifying.

This crazy place is now your home,

your playground.

It’s vast, yet can feel small.

Open, but can be suffocating.

It’s yours to shape.

To mold like clay and create anew,

rediscovering and redesigning as you grow.

That’s the challenge of life here,

to keep seeing through fresh eyes and

not become numb to the beauty and need all around you.

They are everywhere, if you are willing to look.

I’ll guide you if you can show me.



Never a passing moment too soon

saving me from rationality.

Escape my head, tear out my heart

for it hurts too much to beat.

Beat me to death if I would let it…

But where do I hide

with no sanctuary of the mind preserved?

In the early hours before daybreak

I am left trembling in the shadows.

Show me the way, for I will follow you…


Life’s Waiting to Begin

I wrote this while laying in bed sometime around 3:00am staring at my 3 day old boy.  He amazes me, and is giving me a better understanding of God’s love for us.

It’s overwhelming.

After the poem are pictures and the story.


A Love Story

A decade has passed in the blink of an eye
yet I cannot remember my life without you.
All fleeting thoughts and cherished memories
are intricately entwined with images of you:
stealing my heart.
That is still how I see you.
Captivating me endlessly with your presence.
Longing in your absence.
Reveling in your love.

Our adventure has just begun,
much is left to discover
many years left to explore
as we are writing a love story for the ages.



Clairvoyant whispers,
fleeting visions
reveal the future, disjointed.
So abruptly it must be a dream.
Synaptic potentials randomly discharged,
a subconscious creation or Divine inspiration?
If they were only true…
they offer hope, purpose
but what do they mean?
It’s too surreal.
One could get lost searching
in the dark corners of the mind
and return broken, bitter.
How do you follow blindly?
Trust innately, discern reality
when perception distorts your experience?
If you could put it all together,
make sense of your senses
you could find Meaning,
Illusion of control,

Waiting for You

I feel the rhythmic beat of my heart
counting the seconds until your arrival.

I can see you in there,
kicking, stretching, pushing against
the boundaries of your world…

Soon, little man, there will be a
great big world for you to discover.
It needs you to push against your boundaries too.

It’s beautiful, scary, and amazing
all at once, but don’t worry
I’ll be your guide.
We will explore it together.

You’ll learn to create, to share, to give.

To Love.

I Love You.

And until we meet face to face
I’ll keep counting heartbeats
and dreaming of you.

The City is Contagious

Note: Mixing it up today with a poetry post. It’s darker in tone, but speaks to things like vision and responsibility, and what happens when they are absent. 

The City is Contagious

Empty streets, crowded alleys
not a soul to be seen
unless you know where to look.
Change is in the air
traveling as hushed whispers
and uncertain glances.
An invisible feeling is
ever-present in the hearts and minds
of those who call this home
casting shadows darker than before.
Sinister plans disguised as hope
and catalyzed with fear
abscond with our ambition and
weaken our resolve
as we feign ignorance
to avoid responsibility
for the decay and depravity
that has crept within our walls.
A black mold plaguing our foundation
that is hiding in plain sight.
Without vision cities perish
consumed by it’s residents
and reduced to ashes.
Unable to sustain life
it is abandoned and forgotten,
the ruins standing as a testament
to our pestilence.


I wrote this last night while watching my beautiful pregnant wife sleeping.

Poetry for my wife