I do not worry about the past
That holds the future hostage
I cannot speak so fast
My mouth is filled with porridge
My deeds, like a knife in the woods
Haunt all things so good
Like
Emerging clouds sweeping the sun
Freezing the air once warm
I was made to be a city set on a hill
Too obvious to be hidden
I was created as light
Shining forth in darkness
I was modeled as an oasis
Bringing succor in the desert
I waited in vain
My expectations all washed in the rain
My groaning like the sound of the birds
Whispering in their nests
Guilt enveloping my heart
Sealing off the prayer of my lips
The master said all things hath become
new
And his kingdom was within me
Even if the terrors of the day
Found their way to my place
I saw death as the beginning of the life
A procession of the distant skies
Kissing the plants on the ground
I am tired of searching for meaning
In things so fickle
So, I open my ears to sound & find the right words
Sins waiting to be made pure by the blood
Eyes of the spirit waiting to be enlightened
Tongues waiting to speak languages unheard
I was born whole
Unknown to the things of the flesh
My Lord’s duty is to make little things
Soar till they become law
I write my acts into a book
Not a book of life
I let it grow into an essay
Till they became words
Free from the emotional torture of good or bad.
SapiosexualMusings 