I am not who I might be if life were a different reality. I walk between this and that, here and there, time and forever. I get lost because there is never enough of my giving to soothe the souls I disturb. I would love, Love, love, but am a nuisance, a bygone heart ripped apart. Whoever, I am meant to be is twisted and confused within me and without any security. So, blame, blame the rain that falls October from these troubled eyes. An Agent of Spiraling Chaos, may be the truth , there, though I cannot see, thinking Haphazard Creative more truly me.
I am hoping and hiding, an original, tortured by rank facsimiles. No, no, you misread my disposition candidly.
© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan
God heals, holds, enfolds
Us in His Love unending
We are His children,
Bought, the price, Christ’s sacrifice,
Jesus is forever for us.
Gifts: mercy, grace, Love
Always accruing to us
We are blessed children,
Each one precious to Jesus
Souls, hearts, sealed by His Spirit.
© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan, Friday, October 7, 2022
PROMPT: If you are inclined, create something outside or inside the storm. Choose your comfort or discomfort and away.
Gratitude: Being whatever it is, I come to be, wherever I am placed, as will be. Blessings eternal.