Remember

Remember

I’m struck by how often the Bible exhorts God’s people to remember what has happened in the past. This poem came from my thoughts on that.:)

remember

when you walked in that

storm

even though I said

no

that the rain clouds were

close to you

close and

dark

remember

when I ran through the

rain

to go get you and you

cried

on my chest, told me

you would

remember

next time

and so here we are at

next time

I don’t think you

remembered

I didn’t ask you to

keep

all that guilt in your

soul

or that feeling of

fear

that is flooding you now

darling, no.

just remember

in the rain and the

wind

I was there in the

night

I was there

for

you

remember.

Photo by Noah Silliman on Unsplash

master of disguise

master of disguise

Happy Thursday, all!

May I present to you… a poem.

a master of disguise is

staring down

the tearful, trembling girl who whimpers

in the mirror.

“behave yourself…

go out and show the world that

you’re just fine.”

a smile plastered for so long and with

such skill

oh, they can’t see

the knot

that’s weighing heavy deep inside

tangible weight

that pulls at propped up corners of her lips

oh, they can’t feel

the sobs

that rip her lungs as

tears

are pouring down her swollen face

and they can’t read

the thoughts

she can’t untangle in her mind or know

the agony

that’s swelling in her chest

oh, they can’t see

and they can’t feel

and they can’t read

and so she cries

and wonders why

and plasters on the mask

Photo by Elisa Ph. on Unsplash

Love Song – A Poem

Love Song – A Poem

Happy Monday, all!

(It really is a happy Monday… the weather is amazing here right now.)

So… I procrastinated this past weekend. Imagine that. So today scampers around and fills up with a few time-consuming surprises. Thus, we ditch all plans for a thought-provoking article (because it remains half-written at present) and default to…

A poem.

I wrote this one last month, I think, and I really love it. I hope you do, too.:)

can’t remember

a time

I didn’t know

You loved me.

always

each day

You sang a song of love

to me

so freely

it didn’t matter how

I’d hurt You with

the words I’d said

the thoughts I’d

cherished

You

were always there

chasing

my heart

You were

relentless

in Your love

still are

I wonder what I did

with these dirty hands

to earn

Your faithfulness

how could I be so

vile

and yet so

loved

by the God of

holiness?

blood

drips

down

love

gave

all

for me

I’m free

free to love You

delight in You

serve You

give all for You

some call it

mad –

is it

mad

to give all

for the

One

you

love?

who gave

all

for

you?

friend, meet love.

They’re Watching – A Poem

They’re Watching – A Poem

It’s poetry time again, friends! Don’t tell me you aren’t excited.:)

Most of my poems are just the overflow of my emotions and reflections. However, on rare occasion I’ll be inspired to write a poem based on something I’ve seen or experienced. This piece is the product of just such a rare occasion.

A few nights ago I was with my youngest sisters, telling them a bedtime story. I noticed that when I would pause for dramatic effect (and let’s admit it, a few extra seconds to come up with my next words:) ), they were leaning over me, eyes big, hands grabbing my arm, every part of their being poured into waiting and watching for what I would say next. It got me thinking…

their eyes are wide

gaze into mine

as I twist the words into

stories.

I’ve captured their minds

and the rhythm of time

grinds now to a stop as they

listen.

little eyes

little ears

always there

always here

on my words

on my deeds

every act

is a seed

falling soft on the

ground of their

hearts –

fertile ground –

precious hearts

of the leaders

to come.

little words

little deeds

I will watch you –

no weeds

can survive

in this life of mine

rest in the dust of times

hated, you beasts

may you never find feasts

in my heart to fulfil

the base lusts of your will

for

their eyes and

their ears are upon me

I need

to remember

remember

I’m leading

the leaders

the world-shaking leaders

to come.

The Pen in Your Hand – a Poem

The Pen in Your Hand – a Poem

I know… poetry ranked lowest on the poll I posted a couple of weeks ago (a huge thank you to everyone who answered that!). But my mind has felt like Jell-O recently, so I’m drawing from the reserves today.:) Hopefully my brains will be back soon, and I’ll have a little more to offer you guys!

Anyway…

This is a poem written by my fifteen-year-old self. It came into being one night when I was really struggling to accept what God was doing with a situation in my life. Now, in volatile 2020, it’s a blessing to come back to this poem again and be reminded of where God wants my heart to be.

This is one of the first freestyle poems I wrote… and though it’s not quite as fantastic as I used to think it was :), I hope it’s a blessing to you today.

I don’t understand.

I don’t.

There are times, Lord,

When I,

The pen in Your hand,

Long to

Spring from Your mighty

All-knowing

Grasp, with a cry of

“No, no!

That isn’t the way!

Here!

Let me show You how!”

But that

Is as silly as a ditch-digger

Grasping

The brush of a masterful artist.

A clock

Does no good without clockwork

And so

I do no good without You.

With no

Master I lie here, my ink pouring

Out

A miserable, meaningless

Blot.

But in Your loving hand

My life

Is a song – a beautiful witness

To You.

So here – take my tears, though many

There be

And do what you will with them.

And here –

Take my years, though few they may

Be

And use them to glorify

You.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Generations – A Poem

Generations – A Poem

My latest poem… tell me what you think of it!

A torrent of green

They burst on the scene-

Ready to take on the world.

Confident – oh, so

Confident

They

Could change the world with

Their song.

So they did.

What once was a forest of

Bleak

Monochrome

Soon became an explosion of

Verdure.

They gladdened the hearts of

The weak and the strong

The fearful and brave

The old and the young.

As the days turned to

Weeks

And the weeks turned to

Months

Their glory was ripening to

Rust

And they knew that their

Sweet days were

Short.

Yet they glowed

And they sang

In the grasp of the wind

That was stealing them

Far, far away on its

Breath

And they fell to their

Death

At the foot of the trees

That were helpless

To bring them to life.

A waste of a season?

They knew that they’d

Lived

The fullness of days

Appointed

To them.

So they sank into time –

Having burst upon

Us

For a moment –

And broke into

Sod

For successors.

Photo by John Silliman on Unsplash

Once Again – A Poem

Once Again – A Poem

Two natures fight within me

Clawing for complete control

And the evil one is winning –

Its dark reign I can’t o’erthrow.

For its grasp about my mind

Has left an imprint stiff as stone

And its chains about my heart

Into my flesh o’er time have grown.

And I can’t break from these shackles

That hold all my habits tight

For the rust of time has locked them

And I cry into the night

As I see the one You crafted

To be swift and strong for You

Melted to the mess I am –

How could my heart be so untrue?

Yet the dawn is breaking now

And in the early morning rays

I see the promise of the future

And new mercies with new days

And I see the power of Calvary

Making chains and shackles null

As Your faithfulness transforms me

And my shell falls, dead and dull

As new life is pulsing through me –

Though I’ve stumbled  and I’ve failed,

Still You tell me that renewal

Is one humble step away.

Photo by Federico Respini on Unsplash