When all 5 letters unite,
it may feel like you’re
rising above it all,
because there’s always
something or someone,
who’s separate from you,
on which/whom
you can cast aspersion.
Always remember, however,
when you do this without
an honest examination
of your own participation
and responsibility
in the narrative,
a space or hyphen
inserts itself after
the first letter,
as a permanent reminder
that, when this is
your modus operandi,
you will always
“be lame.”
© 2026 Todd Jenkins
There have been
days when I,
cracked and shattered
by the circumstances
of my life —
some self-inflicted,
some other-inflicted,
and some life-inflicted —
when I betrayed, not only
those who hurt me,
but also those
who love me deeply,
and even betrayed myself.
Yet, even through the hell
of my worst Judas days,
there was always
a steady whisper
from the marrow of my soul,
reminding me
that Love and Grace,
as eternal gifts
of the divine,
could never abandon me.
© 2026 Todd Jenkins
Silence can point
to so many things.
Sometimes, it reveals
shallow breaths,
and even gasps,
where it feels as if
we’re barely alive at all.
It can be a manifestation
of confusion’s wordlessness,
or exhaustion’s overwhelming.
Tears, flowing down
Cheek Creek, can be the rain
from a sudden storm, or
the melting of a glacier, or
a hole punctured
in love’s cistern,
all revealing that we need
help rebuilding a bridge
we never imagined
could have crumbled.
Introspection, as it sits
above the others,
wants us to walk through
its field, slowly, carefully,
observantly, pausing to stare
at the myriad rows
still planted, noticing
the shoots breaking through,
the buds bursting open.
It invites us to imagine
the scent and taste
of the fruit
that’s still to come.
Laughter waves its finger,
reminding us of one
of the many times
when giddiness reared
its silly head, bringing forth
a guffaw so loud it nearly
waked the neighbors.
Love, like a stubby
little thumb, reminds us
that it’s not only still
alive and kicking,
but it’s also the very thing
that will continue
to hold us together,
every day, until
our joyous day
of reunion arrives.
© 2026 Todd Jenkins
What is it that
a poet delivers?
A punch.
Sometimes, that soft,
flavorful beverage
of celebration.
Or maybe it’s
a sharp poke in the gut
to awaken the deep sleep
of comfort and control.
It can even be
a shattering of glass
allowing a long-trapped soul
to move out of its encumbrance
toward its raison dêtre.
If her gift is received
often enough, it could be
all three, rolled into one.
The doorbell is ringing.
Shall we answer?
© 2026 Todd Jenkins
In some ways
, it’s like a joke
: a brief respite
in your literary life
, offered to shift
your mood
; and if its author
has to explain
its meaning
, you are obviously not
its intended recipient
Then there are days
, when it’s little more
than a seed
: a tiny promise
, planted in
the deeply plowed
depths of your marrow
, dependent on
the sunshine of Love
, the tears of Joy
and those of Grief
, breaking through the surface
to raise shoot , bud
, and bloom
, when least expected
and most needed
In other ways
, it’s more like Grace
: when you believe
you’re grasping it
, it’s actually holding you
© 2026 Todd Jenkins
Looking back on all that happened,
and how long it took,
it feels like I gave up so many times.
Yes, I gave up,
but I was not the only giver.
“Up” did not give up on me.
My life is pocked with so many scars,
I feel like a rough piece of stained glass,
held together by a binder
that’s too sacred for me to imagine.
From a distance, it looked like
an ordinary horse coming down the path,
and the person in the saddle was nondescript.
The closer they came,
the more I began to realize
I’d never seen either of them before.
Even though they looked unfamiliar,
something in my heart
felt calm and comfortable.
The word “home” kept echoing
through my marrow.
When horse and rider
stopped beside me,
I asked, “Who are you?”
The answer given was,
“My name is Freedom and
this is my horse, Justice.”
As I inhaled deeply,
and took it all in,
Cheek Creek opened,
and my eyes released a flow of tears.
I felt the twinkle in Freedom’s eyes,
and Justice leaned in to nuzzle me.
Freedom spoke softly, but firmly,
“Justice and I are here
to take you to a new place;
a place where Abuse will no longer
be allowed access to you.”
Justice knelt,
and Freedom stuck out his hand,
as I crawled onto the back of the saddle.
Once I was secure,
Justice began to trot down a path
I’d never been on;
yet its familiarity whispered,
“We’re going home again,
for the first time.”
---------------
My prayer for you,
is that your equine angel and her jockey
are already headed your way.
© 2026 Todd Jenkins
To hear that others’ grief
has been made
a skosh more bearable
from a brief encounter
with some literary wrestlings
from our own deep loss and ache,
feels not only
like another blanket
we can pull up
when the grave’s chill
makes another unannounced return,
but also like
a bond of friendship
that not even death can sever.
© 2026 Todd Jenkins
Hebrews 13:8
Jesus Christ is the same
yesterday and
today and forever.
Yes,
Jesus remains the same,
day after day,
forever and ever.
The crucial component
of his sameness
that we mustn’t miss,
however, is that
he is constantly
and forever calling us
to set aside who we are
and how we live,
in order that divine Grace
may be given the opportunity
to more completely unfold
Mercy, Justice,
Peace, and Love
into every square inch
and every relationship
of the community
of the cosmos.
Yes, the
“Forever the Same” Jesus
is inviting us to be
continuously transformed
into a Christlike
neighborhood of his
“New Every Day” followers.
© 2026 Todd Jenkins
There is but one vowel
in the word church;
one soft voice
that binds five consonants
into ecclesiastical existence.
It is “u.”
Yes, “u” are
an essential part
of what holds it all together.
Make sure, especially
in the oddity
of these strange, divided times,
that “u” are participating
in ways that give meaning
and hope to all
who gather and serve
in whatever ways they’re able.
© 2025 Todd Jenkins
I know it’s guardian angels
that we all request,
both for self and others, O God;
but what I really think
we’re desperate for
are guiding angels.
Rather than hunker
in our bunker,
what we need —
what the cosmos needs —
are angels to show us
the next step, and then
to hold our hands
as we take it.
Send your angels, O Lord;
send your angels!
© 2026 Todd Jenkins
