Walk in the Woods

Nik Curfman 3/16/21 Nik Curfman 3/16/21

Abstract: Dead Flowers

Through the dry hot summer sun,

into the long winter nights,

I brought flowers to the grave of what was.

Through the dry hot summer sun,

into the long winter nights,

I brought flowers to the grave of what was.

Stubbornly and with both hands,

I refused to give up hope.

I let my heart believe,

you would come back to me.

In faith I held on,

and now,

in faith,

I let go.

Resurrection is the work of the Lord,

not my dead flowers.

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Nik Curfman 3/11/21 Nik Curfman 3/11/21

Abstract: What It Is

This sacred trust empowers us to press forward,

When all the signs say Wrong Way.

It’s the conviction to try again,

When failure is your only friend.

When I had blonde curls and skinny legs,

I did not understand the world.

I’d cry and wonder if I was ever enough,

To be something worth notice or celebration.

As I plunged into my years,

My understanding did not improve,

And doubt still swarmed my mind.

Then, on a hot California afternoon,

Ready to peer behind the curtain,

I beheld faith for what it is.

It isn’t blind.

It isn’t braindead.

And it certainly isn’t a magical ability to impose my will on the planet.

Faith is a trust,

which may look stupid,

Fool-hardy and uneducated.

This is the view of cynic and the proud.

The confidence of God isn’t afraid of how it appears,

Life in the Kingdom isn’t. beauty contest.

This sacred trust empowers us to press forward,

When all the signs say Wrong Way.

It’s the conviction to try again,

When failure is your only friend.

It’s letting go of what we think we want,

of standards and fear that motivate us,

of dreams and doubts that occupy our hearts,

of pain and shame meant to retard our lives.

It’s walking through dark doors and down narrow hallways,

Assured of the light on the end.

It’s moving and running toward Him.

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Nik Curfman 3/10/21 Nik Curfman 3/10/21

Abstract: Victory’s Home

I’ll forever remain right here,

ready to party,

on the other side of the door in your heart,

marked fear.

What happened?!

Why did you run when I was ready to dance?

You were so close to the dream in your chest,

but now you’re hurt,

and you believe you’ll never advance.

Don’t. You. Fret.

I’ll forever remain right here,

ready to party,

on the other side of the door in your heart,

marked fear.

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Nik Curfman 3/9/21 Nik Curfman 3/9/21

Abstract: Faith In The Storm

Come what may,

Through the rage and the darkness,

I was born to walk on the water.

I feel the storms,

And my boat is beaten.

The wind frightens my senses,

And the rain drives me to panic and despair.

But...I am no powerless sailor,

Without a hope or conviction.

Come what may,

Through the rage and the darkness,

I was born to walk on the water.

Onward into the Son.

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Nik Curfman 3/8/21 Nik Curfman 3/8/21

Abstract: Romans 5, If I Wrote It

Hope is the result of trial, the broken heart, and failures,

when we hold on to Him.

In these moments we find He remains.

That’s Love.

Oh yes,

Through faith we do not bypass the dark mountain or scorching pits,

We persevere.

Then onward we slog through the night, always one hand on His back,

Never pausing.

It is in this furnace we are forged,

Hardened and made ready.

We find ourselves unburdened by fear and anger,

rather hope as endless as eternity.

Hope is the result of trial, the broken heart, and failures,

when we hold on to Him.

In these moments we find He remains.

That’s Love.

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Nik Curfman 3/5/21 Nik Curfman 3/5/21

Abstract: Merry-Go-Round

Slowly, then less slowly.

We made our turns.

People laughed,

I did not.

A merry-go-round is not the ride for me.

I bought my ticket,

Stood in line,

And, nervously waited.

I watched the horses jockey up and down,

To the rhythm to the organ music.

The lights flashed and people laughed,

As they rounded the circle.

Then, my turn arrived.

I claimed my horse on the far side from the gate.

My hands held the reins,

My feet in the stirrups.

Suddenly, the ride lurched forward.

Slowly, then less slowly.

We made our turns.

People laughed,

I did not.

A merry-go-round is not the ride for me.

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Nik Curfman 3/1/21 Nik Curfman 3/1/21

Abstract: I Know No Lies

And if I said God is in love with each and every person on this planet, all that ever were, are, and will be, best to tie me to a stake for my fabrications. Right?

If I said God is real, it could be a lie. Real is a human construct limited to time and space, scientifically testable senses, and our limited ability to understand anything.

If I said God is Love, it might be a damn lie. Love is a what? A feeling? A commitment? A duty? A hormone induced attraction? Or is it a tradition we call loyalty?

If I said God is the Creator, you’d call me a liar still. Creator of lies perhaps. Of political extremists, conspiracy theorist, and religious lunatics. Of useless traditions.

If I said God is our common and Holy Father, the one who binds the human family together, throw me in prison for my crime. How does such a Holy Father tolerate violence and injustice? No good father would permit such injury and strife.

And if I said God is in love with each and every person on this planet, all that ever were, are, and will be, best to tie me to a stake for my fabrications. Right?

How could God love the racist, communist, sex traffickers, televangelists, porn stars, drug dealers, Donald Trump, mass murders, queers, drag queens, rapist, shitty husbands, cheating wives, homosexuals, transvestite refugees, white people, brown people, liars, thieves, abusers, child punchers, capitalists, pimps, Nazis, atheist, devil-worshippers, Catholics, muslims, Canadians, and rodeo clowns?

Call me what you will. I know no lies.

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Nik Curfman 2/26/21 Nik Curfman 2/26/21

Abstract: We All Have A Garden

We all have Garden,

We all have sin,

Death will come for us all.

The difference is who we trust,

And the life we’re livin’.

From the Garden they were expelled,

And to the Garden He went,

Hours before He was murdered.

They lacked for nothing,

In a paradise grown just for them,

His companions couldn’t be bothered to stay up,

As Jesus walked through the beginning of His end.

Each in a Garden,

All faced the most human fear,

Death the thief of life.

Adam and Eve didn’t trust their Father,

But, Jesus did.

Adam and Eve didn’t die,

But, Jesus did.

Adam and Eve didn’t come back from their end,

But, Jesus did.

We all have Garden,

We all have sin,

Death will come for us all.

The difference is who we trust,

And the life we’re livin’.

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Nik Curfman 2/24/21 Nik Curfman 2/24/21

Abstract: One Last Time

Oh what a sweet victory day it will be,

The day I’m done working the line.

I’ll walk outside into the sun,

And, throw my hands up to the Son.

I’ll shout and sing,

And remember this day, and all the rest,

When I didn’t think I could make it by being my best.

Staring at a screen is not living the dream.

Working jobs to pay my bills,

Will not, this heart, fill.

I long for the day when I can punch out, one last time.

Oh what a sweet victory day it will be,

The day I’m done working the line.

I’ll walk outside into the sun,

And, throw my hands up to the Son.

I’ll shout and sing,

And remember this day, and all the rest,

When I didn’t think I could make it by being my best.

Until that day comes, I don’t mind the grind.

My eyes are forward,

To that last day,

When I punch out, one last time.

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Nik Curfman 2/22/21 Nik Curfman 2/22/21

Abstract: Easy Life

I wish I could massage my brain with my fingers,

Rub all the worry and impatience away,

Smooth out my doubts.

I wish I could sip on certainty,

Breath conviction,

And eat victory.

I wish I could massage my brain with my fingers,

Rub all the worry and impatience away,

Smooth out my doubts.

I wish I could sip on certainty,

Breath conviction,

And eat victory.

Though, I’m sure some say it’s possible,

None of it is.

Maybe one day,

Years from now,

I’ll realize I’m a doubtless champion,

Unwavering and wise.

In the interlude,

I will punch through the sorrow and shame,

The impatience and fear.

I will use my words and choices,

My whispered declarations,

And my key strokes,

To carve my way from regret to graced,

To freedom.

(I have found no greater words than these:

I’m here Lord. I give you my life, and I trust you.

Your will be done in me and through me. I accept you peace, love, and joy.

I lay down my hopes, fears, and anger. Thank you for loving me.)

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Nik Curfman 2/21/21 Nik Curfman 2/21/21

Abstract: Amazing Grace, If I Wrote It

Amazing Grace,

How unhuman a thing,

Given so freely to every human being.

We all was lost, but we now see,

All unfaithful, yet all redeemed.

Amazing Grace,

How unhuman a thing,

Given so freely to every human being.

We all was lost, but we now see,

All unfaithful, yet all redeemed.

It’s this Grace,

That taught my heart to faith,

Taught me to believe,

God is the great Father,

Each one of us a born saint.

Through all the shit, flaws, and mistakes,

We have already marched,

It was Him who led us through it all,

And He will lead us on.

Truly Amazing Grace.

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Nik Curfman 2/18/21 Nik Curfman 2/18/21

Abstract: I Believe In Them

In this rundown part of a modern city,

There is life. There is hope. And, there is purpose.

Beyond the signs of the working class,

Beyond the unkept yards and trash,

These people believe in something.

And I,

I believe in them.

Sandy lots with unmovable junk cars,

Barking dogs and cheap mobile homes,

Dominate my old neighborhood.

It as though the owners are trying to keep strangers out,

But I have no idea who’s trying to get in.

Crushed coke cans and old carpets,

Broken TVs and shards of glass,

Litter the yards of the block where I grew up.

Any passerby would not mistake this place for one of wealth,

Or plan their next great heist.

Yet the fences are high, and the dogs do bark.

To protect what?

Hidden hopes,

and buried dreams.

Life.

In this rundown part of my city,

There is purpose.

Beyond the signs of the working class,

The unkept yards and trash,

These people,

My people,

They believe in something.

And I,

I believe in them.