Watching me.
Feeling my fingers
Make that my thumbs
As we lightly push the letters
Gently forming the words
That pour from my heart
That play with my mind
That whisper from my soul
You haunt me
And fill me
I am Your pen
Your fingers
Your thumbs
You are my God
I’m just a dot
Who plays with the words
That make up the story
The story of us.
Ravaging
Reminding me that Life is hard
Convincing me that I am broken
Desperate for Your touch
Longing for release
An escape from this world of pain
Why do You wait so long?
I’m hurting and losing hope
But not faith
I know you’ll rescue me
Save me from the heartache
From the pain
From the futility of existence
From my thoughts
Be my help
See my pain
Save me agaun
Like You always do
Who plays with my heart
I know He is forming
A strong work of art
A castle of treasure
A life full of ease
A thrilling vacation
Sign me up please
It scares and excites me
But I mostly just smile
My Savior has had my life
Planned for a while
But sometimes it is fun
To pretend I had many dollars
Instead of just one.
Then I laugh at myself
Silly girl, you’re just fine
No need to worry, regret, or whine.
You see, I’ve a God who has streets made of gold.
The time on this planet is not meant to hold
Me trapped in doubt,or buried in fear.
So even when the path is not clear.
I choose to believe that You already know
The perfect plan and how it should go.
So I rest in anticipation of what’s next to come.
Humbled by the power of God’s Holy Son.
I’m reblogging but also editing a touch because I kept trying to comment and it wouldn’t post. I don’t know if poetry is dead. The Spirit that inspires it is definitely alive and goes by Allah/Jesus/HolySpirit/God/MotherNature. I think the same Spirit that inspired most religious texts also inspires most poets. It calls itself, The Word, in Genesis 1:1.
Back to the reblog.
Poetry Is dead Death is inevitable, painful and is a rather complicated stage for the living. There is no definite finality of it either, as there …
Poetry is dead
I don’t know how to thank You, Lord for the things You’re doing now.
So I return to my silly blog to get it out somehow.
So much more than I ever dreamt, theses blessings are much more than just Heaven sent.
How is this possible? Am I still in a dream? Surely it isn’t as easy as it would seem.
The truth is You enjoy blowing my mind. True Love like the one we have is so hard to find.
So of course I will bow and follow your lead, and see what You do with Your submissive seed.
Faced with a blank page
I’ve written some good stuff
But it never seems to be enough
I guess it depends on what you’re going for
I’m in love with words
The way they play in my mind
The gentle guidance
Or forceful thrust
They play with me
As I play with them
We are a match made in Heaven
But I need to get up
Alas…
I’ve tuned into a Jesus Devotee this year. He’s taken over all of my social media, and the rest of my life. I got saved as a child but after a life of trials had come to the conclusion that we were probably all right.
Then all the stuff earlier this year (see blog)and now I’m a Jesus freak, so, whatever. Anyway, back to Satan. He doesn’t like me because I’m so into Jesus, even though I love Satan too, in some ways.
God and me love everyone. Anyway, the other day he started messing with my ears. Now they ring all the time.
He thinks he can make me forget to tell everyone that Satan exists only in your head. It is hard, and I can’t do it while writing this because I’m looking at a screen.
When I’m done being my head to write, I’m going to tell my brain to shut up and to quit being such a narcissist. Then I’m going to close my eyes and be my body and soul. You can too.
I’m kind of at a loss
Wondering why my life You’d toss
I’m sure You’ve got some plan
But I’d like to understand
Exactly what’s going on
You want me to get strong
But the method is so tough
I doubt I’m strong enough
To handle it this way
What I’m trying now to say
Is that I’m feeling scared
I don’t think I’m prepared
To handle life this way
What my heart keeps trying to say
Is that even though I’m confused
I’m sure I’m being used
But how and in what ways?
And for how many days?
I’ll try to make it through
I know I can trust You
Even when it hurts
The bad times come in spurts
Good things are around the bend
The pain will one day end
Until I understand
Please Savior, hold my hand.
Like tonight,
I stay awake.
Wondering
About you.
If you are out there
Somewhere
Real.
More than my imagination.
More than my daydream.
More than your words
On a screen
In my hand
And in my heart.
I love the fantasy I have of you.
I love that you don’t actually see me.
There is something so beautiful about a world freed from reality.
I can be myself, without being my total self.
It is beautiful
Until
Some nights
Like tonight…
