Celestial

Some tell me the stars
Hold me, describing my fate;
I think they shine light
Into the deepest darkness
Lending me strength to begin.

When the sky above
Burns like a bonfire aflame
Upon such a plane
The confusion enhances
Every blessed moment timed.

I plucked, like fine fruit
For display, banquet, table,
Where grace finds its place
Making everything stable
Until dawn convenes with song.

Rich the scattered hours
No creature may fast devour,
But explosive spent
In ceaseless labor unmeant
To torture the evening ways.

The stars have lived long,
Being a beginning staid,
Forever music
Played those spheres united, untied,
What we know, guess, still survives.

Good Knight

There is lightning in this sword
Fire burns within this heart
What is left to say, say with courage
Let many prayers rise for more love
Cry unto God for His mercy and grace
May much blessing fall upon all nations
Bow before the Lord, for in Him only is peace.

Essential Pieces Missing

Days exist
Waking comes
All too early
For who I am
Yet too late
For others gone;
Those who
Different lives
Lived than mine.
Each liked/loved
Me best they could
Until finding themselves
Leaving my neighborhood
For either ill or good;
Playing roles next to me
I understand never
Easy nor predictable.

Deserted, I try
To release, find freedom
From the desire to
Recall them, keep
Forgiveness always
Part of heartfelt gratitude
For sharing with me
Whatever they were able,
Still at moments
I feel like a puzzle,
Pieces missing
Never finding
Requirements
To finish, or becoming
Finally whole.

Life, too precious
To forfeit myself,
Giving up potential;
Christ owns me
Heart and soul
Even with essential
Missing pieces,
I remember the world
Needs love –
My capacity to give
Only grows unconstrained
By pieces and parts past
Relinquished to allow
Embrace of such present,
Consigning me to
Creativity’s beauties
In outstanding days
Filled with greater love
Through God’s grace.

Again Then

Time does not come
Tied-up
In pretty ribbons
Red and Blue,
More evidently
Purple –
Green of a stubborn
Bruise,
An ebony night, or
Sun bright raging
Thirsty day
When
That is, the harrowing
Cold is
Out of season.

Prizes
Are rare and never
Given for participation,
No,
Those gains only come
With blood, sweat, pain –
Paid
Perhaps by generations
Who strive to keep
Love, faith, effort alive;
Tears,
Prayers over many years
Are not just present,
The future
Is also their target;

Entreating God
His mercy, grace to
Unleash
That survivors remain
Christ’s love to proclaim –
Overcoming
Overwhelming dangers, trials,
Through the continual
Outworking of individual salvation.

Meaning

The definition
Of ourselves is uncontained
Though we trip over
Who we believe ourselves to
Be on ordinary days.

If we could see who
We are beyond the mirrors
The definition
Of our beloved desires
Might become fit for ourselves.

We may know our worth
Only told in lightning flashes
Suspended briefly
The definition above
Our limits of faith, knowledge.

Cool, cool, the water
We bathe over minds aflame
Trying to search out
A purpose, reason, needed
To give life definition.

Over a lifetime
We may find God, the Living
Definition, all
Understanding given us
Proving life miraculous.

In this poem I made each stanza in the form of a tanka. If you notice I like to do this often.

As a prompt, use a form or pattern to create a work. Adapt whatever you choose to your use.