Violence

You can handle
the violence in my spirit,
the quiet screams that sear it.
They burn fears and clear pith.
Draw me near with
arms that destroy interference.
You fight for my deliverance.
I hide in the strength
that fights my assailants,
the purity that hates
all that hates me
and kills with fire
the dross, selfish desire.
Your counter-attack
will never lack
the efficacy
to take me back.

Spring

Snow fell here yesterday
And today I lay in the green
On the grass in the breeze
Sweet stringed melodies
The light about you
And beyond, the trees.
This moment, freeze,
Forever in my memories.
Forgive this silly grin.
I’m just taking it all in.
The thawing of my heart
Overwhelms me
And though I saw it coming
It doesn’t cease to be
Amazing.

Indelible Security

With glorious light in my face

I look over to

Love that delights in

All that I am without hiding.

He walks with me in plain sight,

Illuminating my frame.

This joy. It’s so much a part of my soul.

My body, spirit and soul.

Valuable beyond my control.

Worth set in stone.

Loved before I was known.

Joy is my story.

The certainty

of indelible security.

Unforgettable

Irremovable

True.

My Savior’s love defines me.

His righteousness assigned to me.

Now there is freedom to rest and do

With nothing left to prove

Or earn,

Only His love to return.

Fear

*Another old poem, previously unpublished.

Fear.
At the depths of me,
That’s what kept me
Immobilized
Terrorized
Fear of losing.
Fear of loosing
the floods of your
disapproval. 
Because maybe you’re right
And I am wrong.
So I stayed quiet for too long. 
And boiled deep inside
pains I tried to hide. 
And erupted unfairly
Unexpected and unkindly.
I’m sorry. 
What’s wrong with me?
I’m sorry. 

Understood

Good morning, sunshine.
I missed your smile in the night time.
The shadows over your troubled mind,
covered your hope and made you blind.

But good morning, my love!
You are awake in the light of day.
You are not defined by the dumb things you say.
You are loved beyond every little mistake.

The One who loves you is good,
By Him, you’ll always be understood.


What You Feel is Normal

man doing boxing
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

What you feel is normal, friend
I can feel it too.
When the darkness closes in,
It covers multitudes.

As sad as that may be,
Here’s a happy truth:
It has attacked an army –
Worn, but full of youth.

In this fight, you should know,
You’re friends are by your side.
You will never be alone.
Your Savior lives, though He died,
And He will fight for you.

In the Desert

desert during nighttime
Photo by Walid Ahmad on Pexels.com

I am your bride in the wilderness.

I’ll follow you

In the desert, I’ll follow you.

In the desert, I’ll drink of you

The heat and sand won’t keep me from believing that you are making an oasis in this place.

How I Look At You

You love when I’m hurting
How I look at You
When my soul is yearning
How I look at You
And I am delighted by Your Presence
Fulfilled in Your Presence
Even when the pain is still present
I will look at You
And when I do
Your smile down on me
Your heart bursts to hear me sing
The fullness of my every feeling
And You delight in and You love me
And I delight in and I love You
My King
I am amazed by You
My gaze is for You
And You dance around me
A whirlwind around me
Together in the Throne Room
My Bride Groom, My King

Hope

Sure of what you hope for
Certain of what you do not see.
I’ve tried to muster up faith for
years without hoping.

Without risking
disappointment.
Reaching, whisp’ring
Healing ointment.

And hope for what?
What could hold the weight?
Longings glut
and eternally satiate?

In Christ alone
my pain abates.
My desire, my shalom,
Joy anticipates.

Death of Poetry

I wrote this over 6 years ago, and it’s been saved as a draft… I thought I would share it, since it still means something to me. And I share, so that poetry lives on, at least here. 

There’s poetry in my heart,
but I’m scared to let you see it,
to hear it;
to be given the chance to;
the power to,
reject me.
So I hide it, stifle it, until it shrinks and fades away in hopes to be awaken another day.

Again, I am afraid, but not for me, but for the death of poetry…