Poetry by Damon Young

Day by day Night by night  Forgiveness engulfs and defies my feeble guilt  My own words lying and misplaced Now seeds in the ground, placed just so Vibrantly dormant, actively waiting  Day by day Night by night Offense falls off  like scales shed skin, no longer needed to levy against their folly or fancy  Only hopeful renewal  Day by day  Night by night paying attention to bread's adequate supply and rejecting the lie of sufficiency  Breathing in, only what I can breath out

You've heard the metaphor. Leadership is like keeping multiple plates spinning. You run from one wobbling emergency to the next, frantically giving each just enough attention to keep it from crashing. And for a while, this feels like competence—like you're managing the chaos. But here's the problem: it's exhausting. And eventually, your energy runs out. The plates fall. Leaders burn out. Teams fragment. Good work happens in silos but never converges into the kind of transform

I knew what Solomon and F.D.R said was true and unfolding before me, “There is nothing new under the sun…and we have nothing to fear but fear itself.” So, as a man, a father of 5, a husband of 25 years, and sojourner in this life when change, trial, and mistakes have stacked themselves up in my life, it is Nomad’s presence in my life that drives me to…

Since I have the honor of being invited into this room, then I want to say what needs to be said,  For the living and the dead.  There is a cloud of witnesses who cry out from the past,  who call us from what lacks, Like mercy, sweet ever-loving mercy.  One step forward, two steps back  still we go forward, Ever forward. Following the long, winding moral arc toward justice Raining mercy, sweet everlast ing mercy, dripping down making mortar out of mud The way is paved solid y

This morning when I walked outside, I think I expected to immediately see someone right away who had been impacted by the crash, but I...

Father, Father Be my ordinary Not just extra Ordinary Be my valley lifted up Not just my mountain top Be my atmosphere, all within and...

Thunderous and tremendous it cries out, “You are a mortal being” Soundlessly and brilliantly, we are aware of the fact, Aware, then...

May offense, spite, anger and the drawing in and circling around of pain be silenced. May the sickness of our spirit that yells, “now”...

I wish I wish my ego was more of a balanced companion That it felt more temporary, less like an anthem Not a constant cynic, such a...

Culture is not at war War is within us Each and every one Teetering on worship Vows of control Laced with demands Of the contract Written...

Eyes shining like a marble And a surprising turn of a smile My favorite part was the way that they would let the tears run down their...

In the power and possibility of broken things my heart flutters In the madness and kindness of my mother's lore Wondering what we face...

“Son your faith has healed you, Go in peace and be freed from your suffering” …is what I heard I may not have believed it if I hadn’t...

Words matter as matter of fact discretion to yell in our hearts utter foolishness to have a sentence or word or library to speak of you...

It is a convenient view of righteous morality for all opposing ideas to be locked into a box labeled, “evil” Clinging to those who agree...

Sitting, looking, dreaming as I gazed into the beyond. Subtle was the feeling that the things I saw would never make me full. The hunger....

I've been here before In this room Not in the exact coordinate More in a copy, an alternate reality Perhaps of greater importance than...

Like aromatic sandpaper, my father— his cheeks, rough and unfamiliar. How I wished we lived together, waking up from a dream. Distant,...

Coming home tired, I admit I was going through the motions. Creeping the door open, I’m the juvenile-selfish in my plans. Until, I sat down on my youngest son’s bed side.  Eyes tired, he said, “What song should we sing?” My heart stopped. These are precious times, I see them racing in his two older siblings.  His skin and features are untouched from worry, pain or fear.  Earlier this week his sister showed some signs of twelve going on twenty, mainly with her excuses.  Her mo

More like questions, less like answers Less like pointing, more like a hug More like walking, less like thinking These are precious...