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an installment following Growth in Expression: Modern Christian Poems |
10 things i love
i love the first day of autumn, sitting on a porch or patio and reading a lovely novel in the sun and breeze.
i love that crisp, gushing sound that happens when you take the first bite of an apple; the resemblance of life and virtue in unspoken words.
i love the sea. especially when it's blue. the salt is on the water, in the breeze, in everything, and it lingers...
i love when a line in a book leaves you breathless or wistful, and you have to pause, or put the book down to ruminate on what you just read.
i love when someone has exciting news, and their eyes light up, and they grab your hands, and it ends with you both jumping up and down.
i love the trail of tall forest trees on either side of the road when you're on a road trip, letting down the window and gazing at the scene go by.
i love it when my pets nuzzle my arm, then exhale, as if to say, "yes i love you too."
i love, love. the cat and mouse desire that will go on from youth to wonder years.
i love music, so many melody possibilities, so many.
i love any imposing mountain, that swiftly puts you in your place in this massive universe. those mountains yell, yet whisper.
Bittersweet
I stand here,
and write on the
perfect day.
A day of no regrets
and new beginnings,
of blossoms,
buds, and bird- like
melodies.
My dreams are effervescent/ incandescent,
wanting only to be
propelled by your glorious
light.
Of all the freedoms
that may exist,
I need not most,
But dwell in this.
Continuance
and
so
it
goes...
there's a time
to martha,
there's a time
to mary.
a
time
to thrust,
a time to
parry.
a time to mourn
a time for
fun.
a time to david
or solomon.
a time to surrender,
a time to cleave.
a time for mercy,
a time for repreive.
the key dear saints,
in time that's spent;
reflexive flow,
continuance.
In the Dark
my arms are open wide my Lord,
and so too is my heart.
ever endowed with fervor
a flame burns for you through the
darkest of time. our beginning
and our end so entwined.
what did you pray for me?
in the garden of gethsemane?
"my Lord, my girl you know she tries, give
her mercy and strength to conquer.
open her eyes so she can see Us, and give her
comfort
in the dark."
in the darkness i see shades of blue.
i used to see black.
i hear the breeze now,
i used to hear sirens.
all i see through each glorious day
is clomping
on a cloud,
you and me, who we
are and who we
will be.
my sights are ever on you.
i hear the breeze now,
there used to be sirens.
Irony
Childhood traumas shadow dreams,
yet we sing songs of purity.
Running from debauchery,
Still we sing songs of purity.
Sing a hymn of two or three,
gathering from week to week,
speaking of his purity.
Feeble arms and broken knees,
yet we sing songs of purity.
Our aura of the darkest things.
Teeth of gnash,
what does this bring?
To what owe you these mysteries?
Alight the devil's door.
Stones of concrete
thrown at we,
Defiled, mistaken, broken down,
trampled sent from town to town,
cursed, reviled, misled, bound.
yet we sing songs of purity? My true face you'll never see.
My heart forever deaf to thee.
Through filth of curses; irony.
We still sing songs of purity.
Meekness
If it's meekness you seek
You've sought something high
If it's meekness you seek
The world goes before you
If it's meekness you seek
Your talents are secondary
Your wants to their needs
A million hurts and sufferings
But if it's meekness you seek
You provide a lighthouse in the dark
Dependable kindness
Shelter
And love You can embrace humanity
And mend a million hurtful woes
And in your peace rule the world
If it's meekness you seek.
Overcomers
a wave it moves within my soul.
i shoulder worlds and dreams
through life's warfare.
these burnished valleys i know so well,
i am fierce among this terrain and
countless valleys,
silent screaming haunts
them all.
but bones
of demonic foes; and pestilence,
decorate its shallow depths.
recordings of a wretched soul fed up
striking out in fury, doubt, and spiritual
rage, the enemy thuds with the heft of goliath.
the victory of another saint that
will inspect their foe's heartbeat,
and learn the ways of the wise--
hoarding another precept like a charm
around their neck.
this wave it moves within my soul,
these burnished valleys i know so well,
they're old, i live to tell their tales to the saints,
as new lands and heights emerge.
Paradise
And worlds would dance
around her.
And reasons would tell her why.
And emptiness would find her,
But faith would never die.
She held on close to Eden, the
thought of the man in the sky.
Parlay with Him in the cool of day,
And question all the whys.
Directness in her tone, a glimmer
In her eyes.
The mysteries of existence, would
Fill her lovely mind.
He'd both answer and He'd question,
And sigh a blessed sigh.
His child forever with Him,
Where love would never die.
Preservation
Teacups, doilies
baubles, pearls.
White satin gloves,
and wide church hats.
Lace and bells of little girls.
Childrens' giggles at my side.
Hurling kindness, peace,
by sight, gestures, and my
consternation.
Temperance, piety all in stride.
Country values are
my preservation.
The Witness
An angel spoke to me today,
it came to me in the form of you.
So smooth and to the point,
your words----
my heart is left aflutter.
You spread wings wide and spacious
as the spanning heavens,
embraced me like a
faun of the green.
Your words spoke,
dungeons fell,
and bridges were mended.
You spoke to me today,
over coffee and biscotti.
I see that I am gold.
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