grave love — A Writer’s Soul

 

 

 

silhouette of graves

Photo by Micael Widell

The puddles in the street were the color of lead

These tastes and shapes of words spoken among the living and the dead

Night jasmine dances under an indigo sky

I stand here crying over the grave where we died

We could have had it all, been something envied and grand

But our chaos took over letting us fade away into our self made wasteland,
I mourn you , us, and everything we never could never be,

And all that is left are the graveyards of a failed love, leaving nothing of you,

and little left of me.

 

This poem was written in collaboration by my self and the talented Kristen. Check out her site at A Writer’s Soul

 

 

Drift off into the opioid of sabotage…

 

grey cliff beside ocean

Photo by Simon Clayton

Do not let me go to sleep and drift off into the opioid of sabotage

Sin and persistent failures a cunning addiction 

I grow weary of all the brutal truth of how one must guard the deep longing of their heart

For I wander high upon the cliff and the sea glistens enchanted below

I envy your assurance but  find mine for my self

Though I am anxious to arrive I wish the journey to an end

A silence I cannot hear whispers of  the Living Water where there are no dangers hidden

 

“…if you would ask him he would give you living water…(John 4:10)

 

 

 

 

 

I Know…

 

aerial photo of boat on sea

Photo by Pok Rie

 

I was not your faithful friend

I was not truthful, no

I am not the best daughter, sister, wife, or mother

But I know The One who is all I have not been

 

The One who is a kind and faithful friend

The One who always tells the Truth, yes

The One who is the best in me that I cannot be

The One who’s is all I have not been

 

So when you think of how I let you down

And remember the times I did not live in truth

I want you to know that I know

Jesus is The One who is all I have not been

Sunshine (a poem by me in high school)

 

background beam beautiful close up

Photo by Pixabay 

Sunshine stay with me a while I haven’t had you for so long

You are gentle and make me laugh and sing a happy song

We will not speak of love unless it should happen to grow

We will just run and play,  you are a shelter from the cold

You are just the thing I need to help me heal again

There is no way of knowing if we will ever end

Sunshine stay with me a while we will both be free

You are just the thing I need, you let me be me

The Cathedral Tree

 

snow covered green plant

Photo by Marta Dzedyshko

Like the vaults of God’s Holy temple

the blue spruce branches arch over me

Each heavily draped with new fallen snow

I kneel down in grateful prayer under the Cathedral Tree

 

I have never been one to love easily and trust

but You Oh God have loved me with perfect love

I was heavily draped in sin and you washed me white as snow

I kneel down in humility under the Cathedral Tree

 

 

 

I wish our story was prettier than it is…

 

white and blue horse carousel

Photo by V gtrei

You took the hammer and rang the bell

Won me a stuffed animal with a cotton candy smell

but I dropped the dream and walked away

there was just no more games I wanted to play

 

I wish  our story was prettier than it is

I stared for days at that Ferris wheel

no carnival or a carousel  left to ride with you

at least I finally saw the Truth

 

You took the hammer and rang the bell

you said it isn’t working out so well

I wish there was prettier story to tell

like all the  horses on the carousel

 

 

Everybody moving blindly forward…

school of fish

Photo by Matthew T Rader

Everybody moving blindly forward, like fish in a shoal

How long have we been losing touch with our souls?

Everybody hating what they can not  understand

 

We surely did not gain good from the knowledge of evil

We surely forsook the only wise God and Creator

We tried to be our own gods but could not do it better

 

I know this is not how the story ends for His image bearers

I know the Master Writer’s plan can not be thwarted

Let it be oh Lord I pray  our Faith be made sight today

The emptiness of my conciet and arrogance…

photo of river during daytime

Photo by Ionut Cerchia 

 

As I sat in the still and In the mess

In the emptiness of my own conceit and arrogance

The old man with white hair said,

“these are your thorns to bear…”

 

When the only free person in the room

Is the one who is in chains

Then it is time to look at what man calls “justice”

Pontius Pilate could not deny his claims

 

It is in vulnerability that God’s Grace comes

It is in the mourning that the Grief is fulfilled

It is in the freedom of Truth that I want to run

It is in humility that true courage is spilled

 

 

The Legend of Annie Bell

 

grayscale photo of woman having breakfast

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood 

She never scoured with tears

Not her face, not her life, not her floor

She was as strong as the Mississippi’s speed

And tougher than the man who made her bleed

 

Relentless in love, quiet and strong was her way

Not hardened but not taking back her living

Until one day she took that shotgun round

The shot that rang out put him in the ground

 

She did not scour herself with tears

She washed herself clean in the blood

She held her head high for her children

That man would never make anyone else bleed again