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Posts published in “Poems”

thank you, Lord

thank You, Lord,
for showing that no path
is untrodden, but
many are untaken with
Your way; i walk
i run
i skip
i jot
to Your beat; i
dance in stride, knowing
the world will circle itself back to me
so long as i dance in Your light.
thank You, Lord,
for showing that no path
is untrodden, but
many are untaken with
Your way; i walk
i run
i skip
i jot
to Your beat; i
dance in stride, knowing
the world will circle itself back to me
so long as i dance in Your light.

slow down to His beating heart; your rhythm

slow down to His beating heart; your
rhythm in His hands as He throws you to the stars in known abundance of your growth; He knows you standing before you stretch out your legs to run from Him; He knows you walking back with all the strength saved in crawling so long before feeling His calling to return amongst His flock.

He loves you as you retreat to your soul, and knows you will find Him there, for you He is everywhere you fear to and fear not go; He is your love, your knowledge, your hands steering you the way to where many end but you will begin instead, on His command.

under Your influence, Lord, i sway and fall to knees

under Your influence, Lord, i sway and fall to knees; You replenish me in perfect love of life; Your word moves the candle’s light without extinguishing the flame; Your wave washes my sins to be the ground i walk upon, taller than i’ve ever been; You hold my head to see the horizon and know Your love is everywhere; You take my arms to be as marionette in walk of the calling You’ve placed on me; You are the sweetest soft brushing against my cheeks when i could not see Your presence before me;You are the stranger who was so familiar and loving without my knowing He was You; i cry before You, as i lay myself at Your feet to wash them with my tears; You are my Friend when i feel alone, my Shade when i feel the flame, my life’s Greatest Joy, my Faithful King and Comedian; You are my God, my Lord, my Savior whose gift i cannot count, immeasurable.

i don’t know what i’m about to say

it’s hard to know that i must write in something that may one day be read. it’s hard because i don’t know what i’m about to say, just that i’m about to say it. keep that in mind, please.

i love
being in love.
love is the singular
from so many
plurals.

i love
being told
i am loved.
being loved is
to be known
in trust.

i gave
my life to be
a being i don’t know
until i’ve done
what i’ve done.

may i know
what i am
before i do
what i do.

but God

you may feel lapped
you may see others running by
you may feel their wake smothering you
but God knows you can run faster,
you can pray to Him and He will put wind
in your lungs and a sprint in your legs.

cats to play

as they scatter their steps in a show of play, we wait and love the relaxation of no anticipation. their rule is to thumb at alls commonalities of their specied condition, and we adore them for this. then you cough, finish your work and I laugh to myself in happy bits.

the classifieds are so sad when read from

the classifieds are so sad when read from
perspective of intention’s goodwill; “They
need a good, safe home,” rings so softly as
to be passed by reader,
but is the hardest line to write.

sometimes you regrow roots

Gave the kittens a bath each yesterday. Jack clawed and screamed, but Reluctance was calm and kind. Had to re-teach them how to play with our cloth-hangy-thingy. they eventually started pawing with it. they live in the couch, so playing, to them, has been alienated for 3 months. we must develop their sense of pleasure into an active happiness, rather than a fearful tolerance of Kitti.

purple passion plant had grown roots this week, but they buoyed themselves out of, and the leaflets into, the water. had to plant them right away, but the roots were so craned that they couldn’t be in the soil with the leaves above. had to remove one leaf and the bend to put it back into the water to regrow roots. trying to save the split-off leaf, too.

new car .

See Me After Class

Sometimes you have to stay tuned in as to not miss anything as anything is what tells you the story; sometimes you have to look away and know you are missing something, something that may change your view, so you know that what you knew and what you will know may be closer than if separated by what you now know, even if you are allknowing.

musings & scribbles