Brave Hart



When your Maker is your husband.

Your body is your own.

That’s the difference between lonely,

And being on your own.


I am a single half

Of one entire whole,

But I am completely full

Like an overflowing bowl.


Hunger can be harnessed.

A fasting stomach without food

Steadies the rock of its soul

Against the weather of its mood.


How can I be holy,

If there are no holes to fill me?

How can I gain life,

If I do not face death fully?


Pain is rampant in the flesh,

An ever-whelming tide.

I place my hull down in its current.

It drives me in its ride


To the raging, riotous Jordan

To beach its brutal banks

To charge up on its incline

And pass the weaker ranks.


So fight not like one who beats the air.

The burning lung is welcome.

Discipline or be disqualified.

Si vis pacem, para bellum.


My wings – they burn to fly

Above the dead burying their dead

My feet – they cannot stick to earth

My home is up ahead.


Look! The hinds feet

mount the high places

Where the brave harts

grace the rock faces.


True: we get one life to live,

But also one death to die

And I will not lose my heart,

As I say my last goodbye.


Alone is lonely

But alone is free

When you are the captain of your ship

In God’s ungovernable sea.