So many (the mighty)
chase the dollar,
others fame, the sage,
incomplete, and they
don’t know why;
sensations, to try to fly-
incomplete without you,
rotting and dying, all they do
until they find you.
Manic laughter, tears abound
and no one hears them
fall to the ground.
Tears of God’s saints through pressure and trial,
like the pearl in the compressing clam-
All of these pearls are put in a bottle,
living sacrifices to the great I AM.
The Pitcher can only pour
when it has its fill,
you need to receive want, to
do what you will.
Exercise your gifts
through God’s mighty arm-
With your armor activated,
He keeps you from harm.
Your soul in safe harbor with
passage of time,
abiding in Him,
your nourishing vine.
to a waiting ear
that cups itself,
just a little,
to better receive
slow, blended melodies.
yet you draw soulless,
from a stagnant pit
of condemned stars and
mass of night.
Let your heart cast off this worry,
give this kindness for a slight.
Though being always reconciled,
bow your head and fight the fight.
Let your thoughts be pure and loving,
forgive them every fall.
Never judge the motives,
and never swear at all.
Lift the load of poverty,
pray and fast in your home.
Do not love your possessions,
never let your heart roam.
You have seen my chains, my yoke, my cries,
Scan the horizon for Truth, not lies.
In spring I was foolish, and called you not,
then summer heat started, and my heart now fought
(for freedom from my bonds.)
Atmosphere pressure pushed down on me,
my whisper started, downcast, weak-
my straps rubbed my sweating skin raw,
down your law thundered, my guilt I saw
In fall cold fears clutched my soul,
death was near, panic rose full-
Yet just before winter’s final closure,
you answered, at last, drew me closer
Persistence, hope had almost fled,
no sleep would come near my bed,
Still, you kept your promise when I was weak,
you answered me since I did seek.
Budding talent is
Warm, strong, when used as a tool
A terrible king.
starts as tender,
poised to emerge from the ground.
black soil of diligence,
Activate the struggle principle
for reaping the rainbow of
blossoms, gifts to turn their silken faces,
thankfully, to your Creator.
Mind, housed in my soul,
is the prophet who repeats,
My heart wrung itself today,
A song belted out a cry-
I knew the metal of it was my strength,
adamantium my reply.
Strongest stuff in the earth,
I will never fall, I recite;
(affirmations stated through numb lips)
even as it crumbled with my fight.
Brain fumbled for solid thought,
focus inside, draw from this strength-
that soon crumpled to a useless ball,
lost its width and length.
Thought it would be glorious,
like azalea’s blossoming petal;
guess that’s what you end up with
when you trust in pretend metal.
(2 Corinthians 12:9)