Him & Me

God is…

I wonder who I am

When I am here left

Alone to find my way through

These days where I cannot depend

On anything or anyone as in the past.

God is…

He says He is the Way

He says Jesus died for me

He says He will never leave me

He says no matter, I belong to Him

God says He loves all sinners, even me.

God is…

In Him, my life is found

In Him, grace forever abounds

In Him, there is hope for a future

In Him, there is strength for this day

I exist because the Lord chose to love me.
God is…
There is no mistake
He is the Truth and the Life
He is the reason I still survive
He hides me in Love when I am lost
He brings me safely through unto himself
He is the Resurrection, Proof, and Testimony
He is Eternity, and to Him, I cling in everything.

Prospecting

Sometimes the words hide
From those of us who often
Write,
We are left adrift, bereft,
With empty pages where belong
Delights, emotions, fears, images.
It becomes a time to wallow
In every medium, imbibe all
The different expressions,
Performances available
Until
The mind begins to percolate
With newfound creativity
Ideas which may be distilled
Into work whose focus is
Breathtakingly original in
Its content, measure, and scope.
Too
The borrowed quiet chased,
Captured, in a solitary moment
Away from this and that
Where a simple notebook catches
Jottings before the thoughts
Swim rapid away, is another
Form of what is needed to stoke
The flame of generation
In a brain no longer merely
Content to reveal the secrets
It has long sorted and contained.

Future?

This ground stands beneath
Us a platform not knowing
How the flowers grow,
It needs not always be one
Way, many futures collide.

Outside is only
Inside/out and celebrate,
For old is just young
With the experience to be
Whoever we will become.

Future hope? Yes, why not?
We are agents of changing
Creativity
Unlimited originality
Speckled with stardust, moonshine.

Come here, no look there,
Space-Time is not all to be,
Hidden emplacements
Enhance and draw damper on
What lies in tomorrow’s brain.

Do not talk at us,
Involve who is and might be,
Reality caves
Because it is perhaps an illusion
More to come than this appears.

Years, there have been some
But stored in ample quantities
Are more, many futures,
We ride the storm, born to it,
Alive to roll victories through.

Dark encroaches, but we stomp
What does not nourish us, we are
Strong, abundant, growing, well,
There is life, light, LOVE, both
Behind and ahead, future we see, glad.

The prompt for the PAD Challenge on Poetic Asides today is “Future.” I wrote another poem, it was not, so I wrote this one. Whatever – sometimes plans alter belief.

Lucky?/Unlucky?

Sometimes we believe living
Alone is an unlucky state,
All the hype feeds our conception,
It is accurate for some, at times,
But being alone can give space/time
To discover the self, independent,
Outside the other with only one
To know we are adequate and find
The purpose of who we have become;
Sometimes it takes being by ourselves.
We stare in the mirror and see our
True reflection, not the projection
Filtered through other eyes with
All the bias contained in another
Mind which may be doing calculations
We cannot see in our recasting,
Addition/Subtraction, Multiplication/Division
Are always trickier when someone else
Does the equation, maybe in the work
We miss important steps or carries.
Even if being alone is extremely temporary
It can give us insight that leads us
To be the better persons we wish to be
Giving us desire and passion to
LOVE
Infinitely better than we ever have before.

Tuesday’s prompt for the PAD Challenge on Poetic Asides was Lucky/Unlucky. I got some rocket fuel (Coffee), which I usually avoid, and so I have developed this poem.

What Is

The last word has come
Early, and still, out of time,
We may think we know,
Be assured we are now late.
None earns the token spoken
By sages years gone
Who hid it in poetry
Which no one will read,
The secret to survival,
What will wake wan weakened will?
Scribes thought to give it
Freely bestowed on future
Generations growing
But books become bare, broken,
Opened only occasionally.
Reign ravages reason
Decides dubious debates denote
Truth tied to television, temptations.
The last word
The key to dreams come true,
Constant happiness, lasting blessings,
The sages held the proof
They knew the poets, writers,
Artists of all types, would
Seeking, find the answer,
Deciphering the gift hidden
Openly for ages in the pages,
The first, last, ever, and forever:
Jesus and His gift of LOVE.

The last word or last words were the prompt in Prompted Positive Poetry today.