A poem on the year 2014.
Homeless; not hopeless.
It’s under control
Unemployed; not destroyed.
You cannot take my soul
A penny for my thoughts
A penny never sought.
Endless words. “You ought”
Think back on all I learned
The lessons that I spurned
No. Not ready to be taught
Let me think of something else
Something other than myself
Or him. Definitely not him.
The good memories are the worst
They carry away my hope in a hearse
So sweet. He swept me off my feet
And my brain took a vacation.
But I remained to romanticize the pain.
Thank God it is over
and I left to gather clover
With children who keep getting older.
Babies of my sisters and brother.
And without knowing anything else,
they taught me the joy of innocence
in the little moments they would forget
But I would hold forever.
It was a beautiful morning drive,
And I saw the sunrise with cynical eyes.
The seven wonders of the world could not amaze,
These eyes fixed with a judgmental gaze.
In this fog, I could see nothing of God.
Not the colors in the clouds in their complexity,
Nor the souls that inhabited bodies next to me.
And next to me there sat infinite mysteries,
the glory of God in finite earthly bodies.
Brilliant yellow light touched the tops of trees.
Pictures of beauty that could not unclog me.
This critical and angry temper,
cannot be touched by words spoken,
though true. I’ll only get better
if my heart is turned toward You.
It doesn’t please me to be pretty,
to appease this shallow committee
you’ve formed to evaluate my form
and the color of my face, to scorn
the soul beneath this tent I’ve worn.
This is not why I was born.
Do not think you can hide.
I see the vacancy in your eyes.
I adjure you to look up to the sky,
See the emptiness inside and cry.
Let Heaven transform the way
You see the souls on whom you prey.
But is it ever beautiful to inherit
This light I could just stare at
And this glorious purpose to reflect
The glorious King who is perfect,
To defy this empty pretty
and live from a deeper sea
Regardless of what you do not see or do.
If you can’t see Him,
You can forget me too.
Let me reflect His beauty,
and defy this empty pretty, please.
I’ll meet the road again with
the things that I don’t give away
to a city once acquainted with
lamenting the lovely dismay.
I have not tied myself down
with a stake in the ground
Though my love is bound
to people on the ground
And I feel the ache and stretch
of those I cannot wrap my arms around.
But my heart is tied up to the sky
and my spirit whispers, “Fly.”
Why is it so hard to only trust?
To let go of the list of must
The pride of life and fleshly lust
All these things that rot and rust
I believe it’s true,
No desire obtained can free you
Me. It ensnares me and scares me
Suffocates those ideals I carry.
I implore you. Each desire you succumb to has won you.
I only give in because I don’t trust You
That You’re worthy and You make me worthy
You win me. Jesus, You win me.
Remind me daily,
Of the grace that makes me
From now until forevermore,
May I always love You more
Than all the sand on the shore
Than all the ones I hold dear
I want to love You here
In all the places I lay my head
Upon every ground I step.
I want to speak Your praise,
Louder than any song on my lips,
Thought in my mind or spoken phrase.
Let my depths of my soul be set ablaze
With the fire of Your holy name,
And nothing else ever steal my gaze.
If I could call You on the phone,
I think I would just listen.
If I understood how well You hear,
and know even every unspoken prayer
I would not say a word.
But I would wait for You to speak.
And I would listen.
God help me to listen.
When I remember to mourn,
in anguish to weep
for all the deeply broken, turn
my eyes and ache for
more than my own life dealings,
I remember now, I’m breathing.
I remember why I’m breathing.
All I could think about was my discomfort. The cold air rushed passed my ears, which made them throb in pain. My lungs sympathized with my ears and felt pain as well.
All I could think about was the beauty of breathing. The cold air filled my lungs and I remembered I was alive.
Sometimes, comfort isn’t what I need. Sometimes I need cold air.
Fill these empty hands with Your purpose Lord.
These fists were clenched, knuckles white.
Lift them high so I won’t lose this fight.
Because you’re on my side.
You’re here fighting for me even yet.
Holding my hands up and steady ’til sunset.