The journey isn’t always easy

most things worth doing aren’t

like letting go

of everything that hinders

the walk

and then there is the doubt that sidles up

when least expected

like a vulture circling the desert

looking for someone ready to fall

but the answer is to keep walking

through the questions

faith is best seen

in a childlike trust in the unseen

weakness is our strength

because weakness shows us that we can’t do it all on our own

the Spirit working within

provides the power we need to make it home

to the embrace of salvation

that we didn’t earn



A cloak of darkness

has fallen over the day

fear is reflected in the fire leaping

and cackling with the sparks of depression

in the forest of the mind

as a man and woman are struggling

with the weight of truth

it has been written that God works out everything for good

for those who love Him

but sometimes faith is hard to hold onto

even though there is promise in the flickering

a small reminder

of the blaze of morning soon to come

but sometimes salvation is hard to believe in

even though there is hope in the flames that keep them warm

until their bodies can be washed

in the light of a summer sun



There was so much promise

in the gleam of knowledge in her eyes

and the confident swish of raven hair

that teased the person she always wanted to be

if only

the waves weren’t racing toward the shore

there was so much promise

in the way he used his position

and in the powerful truths he used to say

that he no longer lives

if only

the water wasn’t crawling up the beach

there was so much promise

but tonight they sit in separate hotel rooms

listening to the bitterness of a clock winding down

as they wonder what might have been

if only

it wasn’t too late

for the tide to turn



Winter swirls around the window

like a whirlpool sucking me under

as I lose myself in the reflection

of the glass

and I give thanks for the shelter

that comes from having found a place of peace

winter puckers up

and blows a kiss to my cheek

as a draft worms through a crack

in the frame

and I give thanks for the warmth

that saves me from bitter temptation

winter turns to growls and rages

trying to summon up

the doubts

and fears that linger in the frost

still I give thanks for the salvation

that offers a blessed rest



No one remembered quite how it happened

but as the years went by

they turned against their history

in an an effort to gain applause

and lost the essence of who they were

they abandoned truth

in search of religion

and lost their souls in the searching

they sacrificed relationships

on the altar of pride

and found themselves in a crowd of empty stares

virtue signalling without virtue

laughing without any sense of joy

preaching without the knowledge of peace

this is the decedent display

hidden in the alley behind the art gallery

sculptures who have given up everything

standing tall without purpose

covered in the orange shade of rust

that forms on metal that has stopped moving

surrounded by memories

of the time they knew the sort of freedom

that comes with innocence



Kelvin Bueckert

Kelvin Bueckert


Lives and writes on the plains of Manitoba, Canada…he is an actor, writer, and has also been known to peddle books on his website…