Tiny baby legs
Shuffle by in stampede
Chubby baby cheeks
Giggle with glee
And I laugh out loud
As praise to You,
Who in tender mystery
Formed all things new.
I’m in awe of all You do.
Tag Archives: Love
Father God
Consuming Stars
A lifetime past, he spoke,
though these syllables, preserved
have never faded, nor broken,
nor is dust or rust observed:
“Be the sun, not the moon.”
and like molten rock
runs downhill, absorbs, consumes,
it imbued with sudden shock
a missing piece, a missing trust.
I am not a lifeless entity
Dull but for the daylight.
The living Power living in me
is a wondrous, flaming sight
and we are one, as He is one
Why add layers of varnish?
It is futile work to be done
while He burns off every tarnish
to shine in the authenticity
of His work inside me.
TB or Not TB
I’m stressed; scared to death
The pain in my chest
Could be transferable.
Fighting the blues; waiting for news
With so much to lose
For those who’ve loved me.
I resist defeat; my faith complete,
But earth tilts beneath my feet
Waiting, waiting for the diagnosis.
Am I so sick? My mind plays tricks
All my exhales burning thick:
Must loving me always be a risk?
Shhh, I try to deny
That age old lie
Repeating that I am contaminated,
And every soul drawing close
Pays a toll
Atop the kindness
When I mean no harm.
Hope > Despair
In You, I am complete
While ever in deconstruction
I swallowed defeat
But not destruction
You have lavished mercy-
I search Your instruction.
You’ve inscrutably chosen me,
And written my introduction;
I eagerly read on.
You surrounded
My petty despair,
My fears unfounded,
With others who care-
To Your glory redound
The unity we share.
May the world be astounded
By the work You’ve declared
And expounded
Accomplished by fiat,
and kneeling intervention.
Grace beyond grace-
Love beyond comprehension!
Grace Upon Grace
So many thanks are due:
He was drunk, a little cruel,
I poured my heart out to You-
Two days later he was through
Waking up beyond the brink,
Beyond what I could ask or think,
Pouring endless streams of drink
Unsolicited, in the kitchen sink
And telling me he’s through.
Thank You.
Then the day sobriety
Painted in dark antipathy
Lesser aspects of his epiphany-
All points converged against me
And I drove out to meet with Yours.
Even as I prepared their open door,
The good was caught in a downpour
And I prayed You’d move as before
When You parted the Red Sea.
And You did-
Thank You.
Then, tired and alone,
I returned to my home,
To a mood unknown,
I repented in groans
And I prayed for peace.
I stepped inside, hung up my keys,
And he wrapped his arms around me
A moment of masterpiece,
Two woven; two atoned-
Thank You.
Rote
Thirty-eight today,
And the days are kind.
But I feel them- blind
Words accumulating-
Which need saying?
You write from a different state,
And my love still smolders,
But no longer can these shoulders
Carry the heavy weight:
Admission to your spinning fête.
A carnival empire
Bleeding heirs
Begging to be spared
From a survival-bent liar:
Unwitting victim and victimizer.
You stand as your own narrator
Proclaiming all you’ve accomplished
I’m a forced-accomplice
And sometimes-spectator,
But what do you say to your Creator?
Do you say to the Lord
”Look at all I’ve done in Your name?”
We both know that refrain
Strikes the wrong chord,
And costs more than you can afford.
So why do you fill these days
Practicing it in rote?
A demanding gloat
Or an empty craze:
An entry-fee of praise.
I’m worried sick about you.
You’re old, and you’re ill,
And you’re unchanged still.
With all time put us both through,
You will not be subdued-
Thirty-eight years askew,
But I do care, and I will,
Because I love you still.
Let It Be
He loves you.
Quietly I came these many miles,
In the dark and nameless,
Wringing out my smiles
In shameless complacency
To hear someone say to me,
“He loves you.”
He’s been saying it for years.
Too good to be true some days,
But that can’t undo His decision
Who am I to appraise
His vision of devotion
Or the ocean of His patience
I’ve been swimming in for years,
Treading through
For the glimpse, the whisper,
“He loves you.”
Sprung
New Life, so seemingly fragile,
Blooms, stretches, yawns into existence
Her entire cycle ahead still,
As she tries on her persistence,
And sleeps off her resistance.
The beauty in the fresh blossom
Sings of hope and resurrection,
Winter left us solid, solemn,
Frozen in derelict dejection,
Seeking warmer affections.
New Life breaks like sunrise,
Like a thief into the strongman’s purse,
Bringing a swift demise
To the fallow curse:
The icy hearse.
Waiting
How long I’ve desired
Something timeless
Love watching me sleep,
Something to keep
When the mundane crimes
Accuse me.
Hard breaths, and long,
I’ve sent out my sonar
My words echo so far
Reflecting off future stars
Coming back home
Alone.
And I know hope, the answer
She’s a veiled street-dancer
And peddles for free
Wares redemptive to me,
But the music runs long,
A song I can’t remember
How to sing.
Least of These
I close my eyes
She appears again, in the haze
Of spent years and separate ways
And tears bent to earth.
Her moment torn open,
But she no longer remains
In the flowing wounds, the stains-
Her broken fragments of being.
I close my eyes,
And they’re ever kneeling
In like condition: healing,
A foreign concept- a mythical beast.
Love, a foreign language,
A muscle rarely-used,
A notion much-abused
And deeply mistrusted.
I close my eyes,
And open my heart in prayer.
You brought me here from there,
And I was too blind to remember the route,
But I remember You,
And the day I learned love was tangible,
Solid, substantial,
And I could receive it,
And I could give.
viewingcamelot 