elegy for a dead ken

rush to my funeral

you would-be brothers

come, marching in

bouquets in hand

lay them at the foot of my coffin

peer into the box

protecting my remains

speak your words of praise

while thinking thoughts of shame

i'll listen

won't budge an inch

fear not

jesus won't awaken me

hand me to you with tears

years to come

when you're free as me

buried with the dead

our names etched and forgotten

we'll meet to fuss, to cuss

begin to mix again

learning to love each other, for once 

for once, for once, again

*I am not what happened to me; I am what I choose to become.

   -Carl Jung

*Reflections of Alan Jones:

  -If the world is to change, then first I have to change.

  -I come to faith in a God who is paradoxically revealed in the very struggle to name him.

  -The simple truth is that reality reveals its self to us in proportion to the level of our willingness to ask questions.

  -In a world where there is no room for doubt, ambiguity, or questioning, there is no room for genuine faith.