unwrapping presents, saturday morning cartoons, ice cream trucks
poptarts, transformers, barbie dolls
handball, dodgeball, monkey bars
nintendo 64 and playstation
the troops and send them out,
if they try and run shoot them down
hurry, crouch down! why did you pick the piano as a hiding spot he's going to count to twenty any minute
we spent was either fighting, training, getting beat or getting raped,
any of the soldiers could use us as property and as soon as they saw breasts developing on the girls they
would force us to be slaves, and kill us if we disobey
me again and i will ground you for a week! that means no games, no online chatting, and definitely
no going out i can't believe you would lie
close to the ground, brother, the bush will hide us just don't make a sound
out the word sis! it's not that difficult, come on, li-ber-ty
seemed so far away when your eyes adjusted to the violence and spontaneous
deaths of those around you, like the weapon in your hands became your heartbeat
and bullets the only solution
A is that you flirt and try to get his attention and make it obvious you want to go to the dance with him,
solution B let your other friends drop hints so
i couldn't run away because i was so filled with fear, i saw them kill my father in front of my very eyes
and rape my sister and tell me from now on i was a soldier
boy up in this oh, watch me crank it watch me roll
watch me, hear me, save me from this war,
because i'm 6 and there's weights in my soul that i can't understand,
why i am being forced to dig up chips and kill my friends
and see bones and flesh hear bombs and screams
falling from the sky like rain i used to dance in
we see you, we hear you, and dear child we will free you.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Princess
Darra
I stand with your story clenched in my fist but no sound comes out
Darra,
I will sit down in a few minutes and the music will play again.
Darra,
I raise my voice in the ears of these people but you cannot hear me
because you are screaming into walls that are carved by your fingernails
muffling the sounds of 20 rupees,
another one, who bought the right to
rip open your wounds, for the 100th time
so the assembly line starts and first
he disassembles your heart
like clothes don't belong on an object,
and the objective is pleasure and tools work best
when they are deaf, mute, and blind
so this man doesn't see your eyes,
when you are pleading him to stop,
his hands melding obscenities into your flesh
with every emotionless remark
as if he could do this forever, not knowing your name,
or the faintest taste of shame
every touch stealing something from the treasure box in your soul,
that you've stored since your first breath,
sometimes you wonder if there is anything left.
and every day after the 8, 10, 12 hour shifts you try to gather the pieces
for tomorrow,
because to your owners one shower makes
everything clean
but what is water and soap rushing down your skin
when the lusts of a thousand men devour, damage, desecrate you from within
and what is time when every second is measured in
bruises, thrusts, and clients? I am so sorry,
Darra,
because I thought miles could excuse me from action
Darra,
you are not a commodity
even though you are locked from within a community that puts a price
on your neck, and traded your thoughts for function
your family for foreigners,
and your lover for murderers.
Darra,
you've traced those peeling walls with hands that have lost all sense
of touch,
heart only strong enough to contain flickers of hope,
but i believe there's a heart on fire out there to ignite your soul once more,
that where walls are traced by pencil marks
the bold can be found, hiding behind graphic tee shirts and loud headphones
told that injustice will just persist, that our lives are worth more than the risk
of turning down the music to hear the orphan cry,
or the beggar sing, that our lives are worth more than the time to bring a child back to life, or to restore the right of privacy to those living on their knees.
Darra,
you are more than a statistic or a tragedy, but you breathe
you feel, your heart beats while i read,
and you have stories and dreams and a history
Darra, could I confess of your beauty that even women freed
sometimes fail to see?
That you are fearfully and wonderfully made, in an image
that make even the richest skies, deepest seas, tallest mountains pale in majesty.
You wear a crown of thorns and chains that weigh you to breaking,
but no rapist can steal away your treasure in jars of clay,
make a mark upon a slate that has been washed as white as snow,
drown out the sound of symphonies that have been sung over you
by the Ancient of Days, promises of old
Darra,
you see your worth ripped out of your soul, thrown on the ground
and trampled by the intruder's smile
but neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,
neither the present nor the future, nor any powers,
neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation,
can take His love away from you.
i refuse to blame sovereignty for the crimes of humanity
cause he's given us hands and feet and a sense of justice to even question his divinity so i believe that he always has, and always is, and always will be on our side, the question is will we arise, and fight?
for once upon a day prostitutes were restored their dignity by eyes that loved enough to give beauty for ashes, life for death,
touched by hands that did not bruise a reed, if but to have a tear wiped away
once upon a day the rocks shook and the mountains split,
and the divide was bridged and
now by his wounds,
we are healed.
Darra your name in Hebrew means princess,
and though we have but scraps of armor,
the night will soon be shining,
for light seeps through even the smallest of crevices,
Darra
I stand with your story clenched in my fist and others stop to listen
Darra,
I will sit down in a few minutes and the music will be put on pause.
Darra,
we are coming for you.
I stand with your story clenched in my fist but no sound comes out
Darra,
I will sit down in a few minutes and the music will play again.
Darra,
I raise my voice in the ears of these people but you cannot hear me
because you are screaming into walls that are carved by your fingernails
muffling the sounds of 20 rupees,
another one, who bought the right to
rip open your wounds, for the 100th time
so the assembly line starts and first
he disassembles your heart
like clothes don't belong on an object,
and the objective is pleasure and tools work best
when they are deaf, mute, and blind
so this man doesn't see your eyes,
when you are pleading him to stop,
his hands melding obscenities into your flesh
with every emotionless remark
as if he could do this forever, not knowing your name,
or the faintest taste of shame
every touch stealing something from the treasure box in your soul,
that you've stored since your first breath,
sometimes you wonder if there is anything left.
and every day after the 8, 10, 12 hour shifts you try to gather the pieces
for tomorrow,
because to your owners one shower makes
everything clean
but what is water and soap rushing down your skin
when the lusts of a thousand men devour, damage, desecrate you from within
and what is time when every second is measured in
bruises, thrusts, and clients? I am so sorry,
Darra,
because I thought miles could excuse me from action
Darra,
you are not a commodity
even though you are locked from within a community that puts a price
on your neck, and traded your thoughts for function
your family for foreigners,
and your lover for murderers.
Darra,
you've traced those peeling walls with hands that have lost all sense
of touch,
heart only strong enough to contain flickers of hope,
but i believe there's a heart on fire out there to ignite your soul once more,
that where walls are traced by pencil marks
the bold can be found, hiding behind graphic tee shirts and loud headphones
told that injustice will just persist, that our lives are worth more than the risk
of turning down the music to hear the orphan cry,
or the beggar sing, that our lives are worth more than the time to bring a child back to life, or to restore the right of privacy to those living on their knees.
Darra,
you are more than a statistic or a tragedy, but you breathe
you feel, your heart beats while i read,
and you have stories and dreams and a history
Darra, could I confess of your beauty that even women freed
sometimes fail to see?
That you are fearfully and wonderfully made, in an image
that make even the richest skies, deepest seas, tallest mountains pale in majesty.
You wear a crown of thorns and chains that weigh you to breaking,
but no rapist can steal away your treasure in jars of clay,
make a mark upon a slate that has been washed as white as snow,
drown out the sound of symphonies that have been sung over you
by the Ancient of Days, promises of old
Darra,
you see your worth ripped out of your soul, thrown on the ground
and trampled by the intruder's smile
but neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,
neither the present nor the future, nor any powers,
neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation,
can take His love away from you.
i refuse to blame sovereignty for the crimes of humanity
cause he's given us hands and feet and a sense of justice to even question his divinity so i believe that he always has, and always is, and always will be on our side, the question is will we arise, and fight?
for once upon a day prostitutes were restored their dignity by eyes that loved enough to give beauty for ashes, life for death,
touched by hands that did not bruise a reed, if but to have a tear wiped away
once upon a day the rocks shook and the mountains split,
and the divide was bridged and
now by his wounds,
we are healed.
Darra your name in Hebrew means princess,
and though we have but scraps of armor,
the night will soon be shining,
for light seeps through even the smallest of crevices,
Darra
I stand with your story clenched in my fist and others stop to listen
Darra,
I will sit down in a few minutes and the music will be put on pause.
Darra,
we are coming for you.
3:47 am
you lay a finger on a star
and the universe spins
overdosing in glory,
that flows from the heights of heaven to the floors of the oceans
swirling and dancing and mixing and lifting
these pieces of humanity
Glory
when i swallow these divine melodies, and feel hope birth in me
see it light up the seven skies, as the earth cradles my knees
Glory
when i read your letters, and every word flutters against my soul
like something dying to get out, and my breath and tears are the soundtrack carrying me through every page
and the universe spins
overdosing in glory,
that flows from the heights of heaven to the floors of the oceans
swirling and dancing and mixing and lifting
these pieces of humanity
Glory
when i swallow these divine melodies, and feel hope birth in me
see it light up the seven skies, as the earth cradles my knees
Glory
when i read your letters, and every word flutters against my soul
like something dying to get out, and my breath and tears are the soundtrack carrying me through every page
Thursday, October 22, 2009
The heart of Mary
9/ 28/ 09
in the silence, i am waiting
hearing the own flames in my heart burn quietly,
trembling at the winds
that are starting to tear through this place
watching the greatest revolution of all history,
of all time
your people finally falling in love with you, one by one
heart by heart
letting go of the tools of religion
no more confined, memorized worship
no more painfully carved times of the day to slap open the Bible
no more prayers whispered with eyes averted and heart elsewhere
no more idols.
for you are captivating our hearts
to surrender, so in love
so in love
so in love
that we cannot help but to live for you, the least of what you deserve
amazed at the way you give your heart to us
so freely, so recklessly, so longingly
moved to
move your very being,
until the walls fall down, and there is only an endless freedom that we walk in
an overflow that will continue all the way to heaven.
we are learning the heart of Mary.
i heard of the overflow, but i never knew
it could be like this
never knew i could belong to you like this
in the silence, i am waiting
hearing the own flames in my heart burn quietly,
trembling at the winds
that are starting to tear through this place
watching the greatest revolution of all history,
of all time
your people finally falling in love with you, one by one
heart by heart
letting go of the tools of religion
no more confined, memorized worship
no more painfully carved times of the day to slap open the Bible
no more prayers whispered with eyes averted and heart elsewhere
no more idols.
for you are captivating our hearts
to surrender, so in love
so in love
so in love
that we cannot help but to live for you, the least of what you deserve
amazed at the way you give your heart to us
so freely, so recklessly, so longingly
moved to
move your very being,
until the walls fall down, and there is only an endless freedom that we walk in
an overflow that will continue all the way to heaven.
we are learning the heart of Mary.
i heard of the overflow, but i never knew
it could be like this
never knew i could belong to you like this
Thanks.
9/7/09 labor day
have you put healing in every leaf that adorns the trees?
in every flower sighing softly,
one glimpse enough to make my heart breathe again
i am so used to
staying inside this building, locked from the inside
a world created by man, where
piano keys are traded for computer keys, so that
clicks are heard instead of musical riffs,
the snap of a cellphone, the humming of a laptop,
the beep of a microwave.
my eyes close only to sleep, open only to be entertained.
the heart is so easily deceived,
for we seem to have no problem
leaving it in a coma while stimulating our minds
too bitter, too broken, too tired to allow
when i'm caught in the wind it's as if
you're reminding me of how present you are
all the time, and how it's you alone
that can take us to the skies,
you alone to make us sing like
when the breeze whispers through a willow.
have you put healing in every leaf that adorns the trees?
in every flower sighing softly,
one glimpse enough to make my heart breathe again
i am so used to
staying inside this building, locked from the inside
a world created by man, where
piano keys are traded for computer keys, so that
clicks are heard instead of musical riffs,
the snap of a cellphone, the humming of a laptop,
the beep of a microwave.
my eyes close only to sleep, open only to be entertained.
the heart is so easily deceived,
for we seem to have no problem
leaving it in a coma while stimulating our minds
too bitter, too broken, too tired to allow
when i'm caught in the wind it's as if
you're reminding me of how present you are
all the time, and how it's you alone
that can take us to the skies,
you alone to make us sing like
when the breeze whispers through a willow.
An answer to His question
8/18/ 09
8 am
the question that always falls from lovers' lips
who am i to you?
i want to know.
am i like the flowers gathered by the side of the road that make you smile when you walk by, or am i more like a rose that you didn't pluck because you wanted me alive
am i a summer's evening or a spring morning?
am i a shoulder you want to lean on in the dark, or just a hand to hold in the light?
am i paper that you can print on and bury all your secrets in?
*
Who do people say I am?
They replied,
'Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.
But what about you?
Who do you say I am?
This question, asked by eyes that search the heart longingly,
every morning
to a people whose eyes are averted
the other way
so they can only say
what others have said, not knowing the waters of your heart
that contain more than we can hold inside
so here is the confession
that rips the ground from underneath my feet,
and suspends me above depths with no end
because my heart is burning within me and it can't
stay inside this corpse
any longer
so i couldn't stop it from flying out when the words fell from my lips,
"You are the Christ."
8 am
the question that always falls from lovers' lips
who am i to you?
i want to know.
am i like the flowers gathered by the side of the road that make you smile when you walk by, or am i more like a rose that you didn't pluck because you wanted me alive
am i a summer's evening or a spring morning?
am i a shoulder you want to lean on in the dark, or just a hand to hold in the light?
am i paper that you can print on and bury all your secrets in?
*
Who do people say I am?
They replied,
'Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.
But what about you?
Who do you say I am?
This question, asked by eyes that search the heart longingly,
every morning
to a people whose eyes are averted
the other way
so they can only say
what others have said, not knowing the waters of your heart
that contain more than we can hold inside
so here is the confession
that rips the ground from underneath my feet,
and suspends me above depths with no end
because my heart is burning within me and it can't
stay inside this corpse
any longer
so i couldn't stop it from flying out when the words fell from my lips,
"You are the Christ."
New eyes
7/27/08
i hate lusting. your love is so much better
it is
real to the core, selfless, courageous, with depth,
clean, beautiful, truthful, nothing like satan's twisted imitation
so keep my thoughts on what is noble and pure,
on heavenly things,
keep me in you.
teach me to walk with you, how to write.
to be more than a conqueror.
Praise you with every breath; open my eyes.
Love will always inspire. Period.
Take me to your world, where everything
is seen as what it could be, and
love, visible, is the key that opens everything
so that every second you can hear
the chains of lust, pride, indulgence hit the ground,
the heart's first gasp after a lifetime of imprisonment heard in
Africa, China, Europe, South America and the
great cloud of witnesses above thundering with cheers, applause,
rejoicing for the freed prisoners who can but manage a whisper
Take me to your world, Alpha and Omega
where every prayer, no matter how big or small
is a bird with wings, wings that never fail because they are always
caught in the wind of Grace,
so though they may have to fly through storms
and miles of miles, though the takeoff was rocky..
they always reach the One who hears, our Father in heaven,
who sees every bird and gives it a better sky to fly in
Take me to your world Father, where every small detail is a stroke
upon the painting
when a brother makes that decision to not click at 3 am, how his
character is strengthened, and how purity becomes more of his garment,
though all he feels is shabbyness.
i hate lusting. your love is so much better
it is
real to the core, selfless, courageous, with depth,
clean, beautiful, truthful, nothing like satan's twisted imitation
so keep my thoughts on what is noble and pure,
on heavenly things,
keep me in you.
teach me to walk with you, how to write.
to be more than a conqueror.
Praise you with every breath; open my eyes.
Love will always inspire. Period.
Take me to your world, where everything
is seen as what it could be, and
love, visible, is the key that opens everything
so that every second you can hear
the chains of lust, pride, indulgence hit the ground,
the heart's first gasp after a lifetime of imprisonment heard in
Africa, China, Europe, South America and the
great cloud of witnesses above thundering with cheers, applause,
rejoicing for the freed prisoners who can but manage a whisper
Take me to your world, Alpha and Omega
where every prayer, no matter how big or small
is a bird with wings, wings that never fail because they are always
caught in the wind of Grace,
so though they may have to fly through storms
and miles of miles, though the takeoff was rocky..
they always reach the One who hears, our Father in heaven,
who sees every bird and gives it a better sky to fly in
Take me to your world Father, where every small detail is a stroke
upon the painting
when a brother makes that decision to not click at 3 am, how his
character is strengthened, and how purity becomes more of his garment,
though all he feels is shabbyness.
Speeches in the night.
written during taiwan missions 08
---
tired
broken
unsure
all pieces of the old world, the incompletion
soldiers take arms
you're not done yet, but remember that you are going Home
i know the corpses that line this place
stain your very soul,
and with the polluted air it gets hard to breathe, sometimes
but remember redemption
don't you dare forget
the First Battle, the First Victory
our King won for us
soldiers you are at the command of that which is
greater than death, greater than fear, greater than
the cold which grips you at night,
when you have been beaten down so much you don't even know
why you are fighting anymore
you are at the command of El Shaddai,
First and Last, He who is the great I AM,
the unchangeable, eternal, unstoppable.
Soldiers, look around at this wasteland.
It will be changed in the blink of an eye
the angels know it, our great cloud of witnesses know it,
our commander knows it,
but do you know it?
---
tired
broken
unsure
all pieces of the old world, the incompletion
soldiers take arms
you're not done yet, but remember that you are going Home
i know the corpses that line this place
stain your very soul,
and with the polluted air it gets hard to breathe, sometimes
but remember redemption
don't you dare forget
the First Battle, the First Victory
our King won for us
soldiers you are at the command of that which is
greater than death, greater than fear, greater than
the cold which grips you at night,
when you have been beaten down so much you don't even know
why you are fighting anymore
you are at the command of El Shaddai,
First and Last, He who is the great I AM,
the unchangeable, eternal, unstoppable.
Soldiers, look around at this wasteland.
It will be changed in the blink of an eye
the angels know it, our great cloud of witnesses know it,
our commander knows it,
but do you know it?
The Tent Moment
8/17/09
i hate how my humanity gets in the way
so many times
so that both my eyes are patched up and i'm just
stumbling through this place
like putting my God in my
box just like i put
everything else in my life, like i got my keys
my cash my phone numbers and he's like
desperation hotline or
backup song when i've got time in this life
saying his name like he's just another possession of mine
what a fool i am
so i shut my mouth and fall on my knees to hear his breath
the same one that commanded light into darkness
to let those words sink in deeper than what the world has infused
to broken soil that will embrace this seed until His magnificence
grows and covers all of me
an oak of righteousness to stand in thunderstorms
if only, Lord
that you would take all of me because this heart is wretched in the deepest sense
but it's dying to let you operate
what have i got?
and who am i, without you?
you see the fire in my soul for the things of this earth
its people and every heart that will die chained
you know my passion and what the electricity looks like under my skin
and tonight i'm standing on the edge of endless, and my heart is pounding
may your words come alive
may my eyes be open to the world you have created
may my mind be unlocked to understand the mysteries of the gospel of Christ
to understand
because satan keeps dumbing us down with the world system, like
how many hours in a day do we really think about things anymore but i want to
know
and feel
the weight of water and what it means to the ladybug and
see the flight that hope takes across darkened skies, this hope that
is so inexplicable, found in
the athiest and the ascetic, all men alike
i want to walk like funk beats are pulsating through me because
if the Joy of the Lord exists then i'm expecting
much more than smiles and high wishes, no i'm expecting
a revolution
to dance like the love of God is real i mean
if i really, truly believe that you knit me together fearfully and wonderfully
and that you move the paths of the constellations and the waves then
what kind of limitation can i put on the way you make
this body accentuate? i want to fly.
and i know i was born into this world and i'm talking like
i'm crazy but what else can you do when the God of the universe
falls in love with you?
you expect dinner at a shack?
some out-of-tune serenades and text messages throughout the day?
he will blow your mind away.
but if you're always canceling
dinner reservations, and not picking up the phone
and going on other dates
how will you read the heart of the one who filled the sea?
i'm expecting to have my tent moment
you know the tent moment?
like, Peter thinking Jesus is pretty awesome already,
healing the sick and turning water into wine
until he gets taken up the mountain with James and John.
to see Jesus transfigured and enveloped by glory upon glory,
hearing God's voice come out of a cloud to affirm his new friend,
who he just confessed as the Christ, who is having a conversation
with Elijah and Moses.
Rabbi, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters-- one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah. (He did not know what to say, they were so frightened.) Mark 9:5-6
And all Peter has ever known
was fish.
the texture of fish, the taste of fish,
how to reel the quick ones in, how to wait in the water
everyday out fishing, making his living, living in that boat
until Jesus called him.
Come, follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.
Don't think Peter even knew what that meant but he dropped his nets cause
there was something about that man, and i don't think he knew
that he'd be walking across the very waters he used to stare at for hours
that he'd be feeding five thousand people with two fish and five loaves
that he would be the Rock that Jesus built his church upon,
that 2,000 years later some Chinese girl would be writing a poem about him,
all he knew was fish.
And all i knew were the plans laid out for me in this American dream,
and the ground beneath my feet and the tension in my chest until
i met him.
and he's still saying, follow me, so i'm going to follow
cause i've tasted the wine that once was water,
and seen him calm the storm when i was clinging at the sail
and i know i was meant to see him
face to face
and give him my love everyday, letting him carry me
from glory to glory,
straight to Victory.
mark this satan,
this girl is dancing down the walls of Jericho.
i hate how my humanity gets in the way
so many times
so that both my eyes are patched up and i'm just
stumbling through this place
like putting my God in my
box just like i put
everything else in my life, like i got my keys
my cash my phone numbers and he's like
desperation hotline or
backup song when i've got time in this life
saying his name like he's just another possession of mine
what a fool i am
so i shut my mouth and fall on my knees to hear his breath
the same one that commanded light into darkness
to let those words sink in deeper than what the world has infused
to broken soil that will embrace this seed until His magnificence
grows and covers all of me
an oak of righteousness to stand in thunderstorms
if only, Lord
that you would take all of me because this heart is wretched in the deepest sense
but it's dying to let you operate
what have i got?
and who am i, without you?
you see the fire in my soul for the things of this earth
its people and every heart that will die chained
you know my passion and what the electricity looks like under my skin
and tonight i'm standing on the edge of endless, and my heart is pounding
may your words come alive
may my eyes be open to the world you have created
may my mind be unlocked to understand the mysteries of the gospel of Christ
to understand
because satan keeps dumbing us down with the world system, like
how many hours in a day do we really think about things anymore but i want to
know
and feel
the weight of water and what it means to the ladybug and
see the flight that hope takes across darkened skies, this hope that
is so inexplicable, found in
the athiest and the ascetic, all men alike
i want to walk like funk beats are pulsating through me because
if the Joy of the Lord exists then i'm expecting
much more than smiles and high wishes, no i'm expecting
a revolution
to dance like the love of God is real i mean
if i really, truly believe that you knit me together fearfully and wonderfully
and that you move the paths of the constellations and the waves then
what kind of limitation can i put on the way you make
this body accentuate? i want to fly.
and i know i was born into this world and i'm talking like
i'm crazy but what else can you do when the God of the universe
falls in love with you?
you expect dinner at a shack?
some out-of-tune serenades and text messages throughout the day?
he will blow your mind away.
but if you're always canceling
dinner reservations, and not picking up the phone
and going on other dates
how will you read the heart of the one who filled the sea?
i'm expecting to have my tent moment
you know the tent moment?
like, Peter thinking Jesus is pretty awesome already,
healing the sick and turning water into wine
until he gets taken up the mountain with James and John.
to see Jesus transfigured and enveloped by glory upon glory,
hearing God's voice come out of a cloud to affirm his new friend,
who he just confessed as the Christ, who is having a conversation
with Elijah and Moses.
Rabbi, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters-- one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah. (He did not know what to say, they were so frightened.) Mark 9:5-6
And all Peter has ever known
was fish.
the texture of fish, the taste of fish,
how to reel the quick ones in, how to wait in the water
everyday out fishing, making his living, living in that boat
until Jesus called him.
Come, follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.
Don't think Peter even knew what that meant but he dropped his nets cause
there was something about that man, and i don't think he knew
that he'd be walking across the very waters he used to stare at for hours
that he'd be feeding five thousand people with two fish and five loaves
that he would be the Rock that Jesus built his church upon,
that 2,000 years later some Chinese girl would be writing a poem about him,
all he knew was fish.
And all i knew were the plans laid out for me in this American dream,
and the ground beneath my feet and the tension in my chest until
i met him.
and he's still saying, follow me, so i'm going to follow
cause i've tasted the wine that once was water,
and seen him calm the storm when i was clinging at the sail
and i know i was meant to see him
face to face
and give him my love everyday, letting him carry me
from glory to glory,
straight to Victory.
mark this satan,
this girl is dancing down the walls of Jericho.
For the disillusioned
8/12/09
the sun rises again on a city that has been wilting
since the beginning of time
the people put ashes to their mouths and learn to
breathe while gasping for air in the quiet crevices of night,
when no one else hears
their eyes are only open to blink, glossed over in the same hue
as the smog that blankets their skyscrapers
the city beats on a processed heart, preserved by the grave
working to live, living to work
senseless, faithless, hopeless
they thirst and hunger.
some moments they find the heart move against the ancient chains
when they taste drops of goodness through heavy skies
in a pure smile,
a helping hand amidst faceless crowds
the sun's rays that fill the room quietly
little things
monumental things, which move them though they can't see towards which direction
the flight of birds across a cloudless sky that tempts the heart to soar
the last quivering note of a song that strikes a chord unbreakable
the elusive song of God
this love song,
which they can't take in because the thought of
something complete, and wonderful and beautiful
is too dangerous, too good to be true
but He whispers in everything,
you were made for this kind of love.
the sun rises again on a city that has been wilting
since the beginning of time
the people put ashes to their mouths and learn to
breathe while gasping for air in the quiet crevices of night,
when no one else hears
their eyes are only open to blink, glossed over in the same hue
as the smog that blankets their skyscrapers
the city beats on a processed heart, preserved by the grave
working to live, living to work
senseless, faithless, hopeless
they thirst and hunger.
some moments they find the heart move against the ancient chains
when they taste drops of goodness through heavy skies
in a pure smile,
a helping hand amidst faceless crowds
the sun's rays that fill the room quietly
little things
monumental things, which move them though they can't see towards which direction
the flight of birds across a cloudless sky that tempts the heart to soar
the last quivering note of a song that strikes a chord unbreakable
the elusive song of God
this love song,
which they can't take in because the thought of
something complete, and wonderful and beautiful
is too dangerous, too good to be true
but He whispers in everything,
you were made for this kind of love.
Lovesick
8/11/09
i heard about the overflow
but i never knew it could be like this
like catching a fragrance of eternity
where i, in pieces on the floor
shed my every exterior definition until
i am your rose unfolded,
the child aching for your touch
i heard about the overflow
but i never knew it would be like
rain pouring across my face and into my hands
and when i think it's all done, you waterfall
your love over me again
like my heart can barely stand under the weight of one
aspect of you, learning that you are my Rock
until you show me too the riches of your mercy,
the faithfulness of your heart, the beauty of your being
and i die again
trembling because i've never fell into something
so bottomless, and i don't remember how far back the cliff is but
i don't ever want to go back, i'm caught in your eyes
falling in love, finding no end
i heard about the overflow
but i never knew it could be like this
like catching a fragrance of eternity
where i, in pieces on the floor
shed my every exterior definition until
i am your rose unfolded,
the child aching for your touch
i heard about the overflow
but i never knew it would be like
rain pouring across my face and into my hands
and when i think it's all done, you waterfall
your love over me again
like my heart can barely stand under the weight of one
aspect of you, learning that you are my Rock
until you show me too the riches of your mercy,
the faithfulness of your heart, the beauty of your being
and i die again
trembling because i've never fell into something
so bottomless, and i don't remember how far back the cliff is but
i don't ever want to go back, i'm caught in your eyes
falling in love, finding no end
The hardest confession
7/21/09
let every dead end I run into
be where You begin
let all my scattered, gray thoughts
lead to You
where slate meets color,
and paper meets pen
I read your word, and dream.
every Psalm unfolding my heart to reveal the secret
i could not confess,
meant to forget and suppress because I left the truth for a lie
letting you wade through the darkness again,
the fires of this iron heart with your own hands and feet
watching you tear through this fortress and all its locked doors,
until you've finally reached the room
where I've hid as a child for all my life
until finally I tell the secret to myself,
and to the world
that You love me.
let every dead end I run into
be where You begin
let all my scattered, gray thoughts
lead to You
where slate meets color,
and paper meets pen
I read your word, and dream.
every Psalm unfolding my heart to reveal the secret
i could not confess,
meant to forget and suppress because I left the truth for a lie
letting you wade through the darkness again,
the fires of this iron heart with your own hands and feet
watching you tear through this fortress and all its locked doors,
until you've finally reached the room
where I've hid as a child for all my life
until finally I tell the secret to myself,
and to the world
that You love me.
Home
i know i haven't been there yet but
oh, the audacity of a soul to dream
of the feel of being surrounded by a thousand songs
glory cascading in every symphony, every note enough to move
galaxies
and what of pictures and tangible things? i cannot imagine
colors more beautiful than found in the sunrise and petals and lovers' eyes
and even more, what they would fill
the glistening sea that reflects the light from your throne
and angels' wings that brush against perfect space
are there structures? or forests? you said it all, and there was all
so could there be more?
oh, the audacity of a soul to dream
of the feel of being surrounded by a thousand songs
glory cascading in every symphony, every note enough to move
galaxies
and what of pictures and tangible things? i cannot imagine
colors more beautiful than found in the sunrise and petals and lovers' eyes
and even more, what they would fill
the glistening sea that reflects the light from your throne
and angels' wings that brush against perfect space
are there structures? or forests? you said it all, and there was all
so could there be more?
Good Morning
i love how every day
starts with a sunrise
as if to say
Here is another chance,
oh weary world,
to start brand new again.
as if He took His mercies, and spilled them gold
across trashcans and
sleepy flowers,
reminding with every ray of light that there is redemption
a lifetime's worth of mornings-
and with every morning
the heartbreaking whisper,
Why will you die, O Israel?
Jesus has died for every sinner already.
on that day that
no one seems to remember,
crucified by lies and a hatred that seared heaven's own King until He
bled like a slaughtered lamb, crushed by iron
apathy
punctured by nails of hypocrisy
but the calendars wipe this slate clean until his name is dull as
nice man who did nice things, brought peace
but without Him no sinner is free
and He is the Lord, who took the Kingdom by such force that
demons fled at the first note of his breath
rose the dead and healed the blind like time could stand still, warp, and curve at his command
He is the Lord, who is love
who loves His creation immensely which proves Himself completely and utterly relevant
to you and me, contrary to popular belief
loved relentlessly even when creation disowned Him so He
fixed the problem personally, came down to taste
our teardrops on His face, to feel our burdens on His shoulders,
wear our skin and bones that He may bleed, bruise, and break
to show us that love is deeper than words and will do whatever it takes
to set free and overcome
that love will do whatever it takes for the beloved,
us.
So Jesus took the sinner's sentence,
God took the world's crimes
and died so that
we could be spared, redeemed, justified.
not so we could have long distance priest-faciliated conversation
not so His name could be thrown in theoretically, thrown in for last-minute resorts
but so we could run straight into His arms
see straight into His heart, and let Him speak
straight to ours
hold His hand
to dance
Love is personal.
starts with a sunrise
as if to say
Here is another chance,
oh weary world,
to start brand new again.
as if He took His mercies, and spilled them gold
across trashcans and
sleepy flowers,
reminding with every ray of light that there is redemption
a lifetime's worth of mornings-
and with every morning
the heartbreaking whisper,
Why will you die, O Israel?
Jesus has died for every sinner already.
on that day that
no one seems to remember,
crucified by lies and a hatred that seared heaven's own King until He
bled like a slaughtered lamb, crushed by iron
apathy
punctured by nails of hypocrisy
but the calendars wipe this slate clean until his name is dull as
nice man who did nice things, brought peace
but without Him no sinner is free
and He is the Lord, who took the Kingdom by such force that
demons fled at the first note of his breath
rose the dead and healed the blind like time could stand still, warp, and curve at his command
He is the Lord, who is love
who loves His creation immensely which proves Himself completely and utterly relevant
to you and me, contrary to popular belief
loved relentlessly even when creation disowned Him so He
fixed the problem personally, came down to taste
our teardrops on His face, to feel our burdens on His shoulders,
wear our skin and bones that He may bleed, bruise, and break
to show us that love is deeper than words and will do whatever it takes
to set free and overcome
that love will do whatever it takes for the beloved,
us.
So Jesus took the sinner's sentence,
God took the world's crimes
and died so that
we could be spared, redeemed, justified.
not so we could have long distance priest-faciliated conversation
not so His name could be thrown in theoretically, thrown in for last-minute resorts
but so we could run straight into His arms
see straight into His heart, and let Him speak
straight to ours
hold His hand
to dance
Love is personal.
Wrestling
i eat the sin
i drink the sin
i chew the sin
i buy the sin
i dream the sin
i want the sin
i love the sin
i hate the sin.
hate, abhor, loathe
for this is not who i was meant to be.
this body,
with over one billion nerves
and all its systems and organs and cells
all for a 9-5 job and artificial relations?
high speed connection and riches?
the world tells me this body is made for
the butcher's knife, made for men's pleasure to use and misuse
that this voice is to carry out biting and obscene phrases to defend and win
that these feet are to be constantly on the go, A to B, every higher on the ladder to success, never stopping
that these eyes should consume entertainment and stare into radiation for hours, looking elsewhere only to judge or to steal
that these hands take only for myself, tied to the tool day and night
sin calls to me and i fall easily but
i think about the intricacy of my frame, and my Maker's
craftsmanship and will not stand for the lies any longer
the moment i met you i knew
that this body was meant to be living in
freedom
to be used for dancing and praising
this voice to carry out symphonies and speak the words of Jesus who moved mountains and healed the sick
these feet to beautiful like he who brought the good news, the gospel of peace
of Christ crucified
these eyes to admire and appreciate his creation, every single thing,
these hands to help the fallen and create mighty works
this heart for you, and you alone
i drink the sin
i chew the sin
i buy the sin
i dream the sin
i want the sin
i love the sin
i hate the sin.
hate, abhor, loathe
for this is not who i was meant to be.
this body,
with over one billion nerves
and all its systems and organs and cells
all for a 9-5 job and artificial relations?
high speed connection and riches?
the world tells me this body is made for
the butcher's knife, made for men's pleasure to use and misuse
that this voice is to carry out biting and obscene phrases to defend and win
that these feet are to be constantly on the go, A to B, every higher on the ladder to success, never stopping
that these eyes should consume entertainment and stare into radiation for hours, looking elsewhere only to judge or to steal
that these hands take only for myself, tied to the tool day and night
sin calls to me and i fall easily but
i think about the intricacy of my frame, and my Maker's
craftsmanship and will not stand for the lies any longer
the moment i met you i knew
that this body was meant to be living in
freedom
to be used for dancing and praising
this voice to carry out symphonies and speak the words of Jesus who moved mountains and healed the sick
these feet to beautiful like he who brought the good news, the gospel of peace
of Christ crucified
these eyes to admire and appreciate his creation, every single thing,
these hands to help the fallen and create mighty works
this heart for you, and you alone
Restart
when i get lost in the world's traffic
mind all over the place with not a breath to spare
you tell me to be still, and know that you are God
yes, i know
and then i accelerate to the freeway yet again
reading the billboards instead of your words,
the world and its people a blur inside this machine
where i'm safe
but i'm going nowhere,
hurtling towards death to the mainstream soundtrack
deaf until you break down the engine so that i have to pull to the side
of the road, and be still
and in those few seconds that i was always scared to let free
you washed over me,
in a way that only you can, gently lifting my head and paving the way
for a conversation.
I love you.
I love you, child.
Here I am, come to me and live.
Always, from morning to night you speak this to me as I shut myself in my vehicle.
Grace and mercy.
Repent and live, I am sufficient alone.
So for every thousand words you speak I move a millimeter, beating you
a hundred times only to love you once with my
murderous heart.
A rusted engine on the side of the road, with a failure in the driver's seat
learning to hear the love song of God, of divinity that pursues even unto death
the three words find their way out of a maze in the most unexpected ways
so i sit still, and soar inside
when i see myself as the child
in your hands
made to be with you, sanctified by your blood
enabled to love freely
and touch your heart.
mind all over the place with not a breath to spare
you tell me to be still, and know that you are God
yes, i know
and then i accelerate to the freeway yet again
reading the billboards instead of your words,
the world and its people a blur inside this machine
where i'm safe
but i'm going nowhere,
hurtling towards death to the mainstream soundtrack
deaf until you break down the engine so that i have to pull to the side
of the road, and be still
and in those few seconds that i was always scared to let free
you washed over me,
in a way that only you can, gently lifting my head and paving the way
for a conversation.
I love you.
I love you, child.
Here I am, come to me and live.
Always, from morning to night you speak this to me as I shut myself in my vehicle.
Grace and mercy.
Repent and live, I am sufficient alone.
So for every thousand words you speak I move a millimeter, beating you
a hundred times only to love you once with my
murderous heart.
A rusted engine on the side of the road, with a failure in the driver's seat
learning to hear the love song of God, of divinity that pursues even unto death
the three words find their way out of a maze in the most unexpected ways
so i sit still, and soar inside
when i see myself as the child
in your hands
made to be with you, sanctified by your blood
enabled to love freely
and touch your heart.
Hospital Ward
when i come undone
but refuse to let the water fall so that it's shut
in the same place as the fire,
burning and singing its hideous symphony
i just want to close my eyes
and turn off my heart
my brain, the thoughts that sear tissue but it can't be physical
because surely someone would have called a doctor
doctor?
i see them wheeled in for the jumpstart, and i celebrate with flowers
at first breath, only to lay them on a pile of dirt a few years later
i hear them suffocate on white beds pressed to perfection, eyes flickering
and i cried out
doctor,
please,
but the patients remain
this is where i sleep, where i wake
the hospital ward traps me with their sighs
i am floating in a sea much deeper than i'll confess
watching some running towards me from the shore, but they don't know these waters
floating, watching the rest play on the sand while i stay because
they will see the drenched clothes,
always too heavy for occasion.
seashells are so much prettier to look at
so i float
but when i lay down to stone defiance
tired and with a knife at the world's throat
you brush against me,
with something like wings
and i cannot hate
because of your love.
which i so frequently reject because i don't understand,
but accept because you pour it over me until i can barely stand.
my broken heart
will never measure up against yours,
and the least i will do is to allow you full access
to the hospital ward,
to the sea,
grasping the wonder that you,
are for me.
grasping the wonder that Calvary cost everything,
and that i
in empty rooms of solitude with you,
am in need of nothing.
but refuse to let the water fall so that it's shut
in the same place as the fire,
burning and singing its hideous symphony
i just want to close my eyes
and turn off my heart
my brain, the thoughts that sear tissue but it can't be physical
because surely someone would have called a doctor
doctor?
i see them wheeled in for the jumpstart, and i celebrate with flowers
at first breath, only to lay them on a pile of dirt a few years later
i hear them suffocate on white beds pressed to perfection, eyes flickering
and i cried out
doctor,
please,
but the patients remain
this is where i sleep, where i wake
the hospital ward traps me with their sighs
i am floating in a sea much deeper than i'll confess
watching some running towards me from the shore, but they don't know these waters
floating, watching the rest play on the sand while i stay because
they will see the drenched clothes,
always too heavy for occasion.
seashells are so much prettier to look at
so i float
but when i lay down to stone defiance
tired and with a knife at the world's throat
you brush against me,
with something like wings
and i cannot hate
because of your love.
which i so frequently reject because i don't understand,
but accept because you pour it over me until i can barely stand.
my broken heart
will never measure up against yours,
and the least i will do is to allow you full access
to the hospital ward,
to the sea,
grasping the wonder that you,
are for me.
grasping the wonder that Calvary cost everything,
and that i
in empty rooms of solitude with you,
am in need of nothing.
Nineteen.
5/14/09
Jesus. All my years, take all my years I press them into your
hands, they're stained with uncertain colors and frayed with broken promises
but I'm trading them for moments with You,
moments that make me forget the concrete walls of time,
what does it matter when You hold me close enough that not even the wind
can find us in this secret place
i'm still the same, still fit in skin and bones unworthy to dance with divinity
just one more year older but
i'm telling you Jesus,
this heart's flying through fire to keep in touch
i know your rhythm is relentless; i
barely shine like fireflies
can't crop a love song into fancy words that any fool can dream up
but oh, Lord,
i thank you for loving me so continuously
like every breath I breathe is a reminder of that constancy
tonight as I collect eighteen I simply ask
the same as the last, truly trembling in spirit and naked in request
i desire all of Thee, to love Thee to astound angels again and again until i meet them in that Morning,
to know Thee in Thy death and resurrection and oh,
to be taken deeper.
thank you for your amazing grace
the only reason for all these
years, and years
and here's to another,
dear Friend and Lover.
Jesus. All my years, take all my years I press them into your
hands, they're stained with uncertain colors and frayed with broken promises
but I'm trading them for moments with You,
moments that make me forget the concrete walls of time,
what does it matter when You hold me close enough that not even the wind
can find us in this secret place
i'm still the same, still fit in skin and bones unworthy to dance with divinity
just one more year older but
i'm telling you Jesus,
this heart's flying through fire to keep in touch
i know your rhythm is relentless; i
barely shine like fireflies
can't crop a love song into fancy words that any fool can dream up
but oh, Lord,
i thank you for loving me so continuously
like every breath I breathe is a reminder of that constancy
tonight as I collect eighteen I simply ask
the same as the last, truly trembling in spirit and naked in request
i desire all of Thee, to love Thee to astound angels again and again until i meet them in that Morning,
to know Thee in Thy death and resurrection and oh,
to be taken deeper.
thank you for your amazing grace
the only reason for all these
years, and years
and here's to another,
dear Friend and Lover.
The call to Arise
i heard the call to Arise in the misty dawn
dropped my tools and walked towards the voice,
my heart burning within me
i saw a crowd gathered,
faces flushed with the hue of youth
some with hands in pockets and eyes cast down,
counting the patches on their clothes
many stared off to the side,
the same temperature locked inside because it hurts too much to
burn,
and they've failed this test before
a few stood with their bright eyes standing out, listening
and listening for the next words to move
i scanned the faces and wondered why they reported this way
at the call to Arise
dropped my tools and walked towards the voice,
my heart burning within me
i saw a crowd gathered,
faces flushed with the hue of youth
some with hands in pockets and eyes cast down,
counting the patches on their clothes
many stared off to the side,
the same temperature locked inside because it hurts too much to
burn,
and they've failed this test before
a few stood with their bright eyes standing out, listening
and listening for the next words to move
i scanned the faces and wondered why they reported this way
at the call to Arise
Genesis
4/29/ 09, 1 am.
i want to wake up every morning
seeing the bloodstream of this Life you have created run so clearly
seeing the sheer energy it is powered by burst from every
tree and rock and creature,
to hear the song of praise that thickly coats the atmosphere of this Earth,
notes and melodies meeting across the countries
from the moss growing in jungles undiscovered
to the great glaciers of the Arctic,
from the gazelles that sleep in Africa
to the nightingales that sing the China sky to sunrise.
i want to feel the thrill of Genesis,
of your heart when you looked upon all your hands have formed, and said
"It was good."
What did you see?
Because I believe there is still a flood of divine secrets
hidden in every crevice of creation
that these blind eyes have failed to see,
of beauty pulsating deeply,
not just colors and shapes and material and function,
but space and time occupied in Love,
the microscopes find atoms but
i'm after your heart.
i want to wake up every morning
seeing the bloodstream of this Life you have created run so clearly
seeing the sheer energy it is powered by burst from every
tree and rock and creature,
to hear the song of praise that thickly coats the atmosphere of this Earth,
notes and melodies meeting across the countries
from the moss growing in jungles undiscovered
to the great glaciers of the Arctic,
from the gazelles that sleep in Africa
to the nightingales that sing the China sky to sunrise.
i want to feel the thrill of Genesis,
of your heart when you looked upon all your hands have formed, and said
"It was good."
What did you see?
Because I believe there is still a flood of divine secrets
hidden in every crevice of creation
that these blind eyes have failed to see,
of beauty pulsating deeply,
not just colors and shapes and material and function,
but space and time occupied in Love,
the microscopes find atoms but
i'm after your heart.
The Way You Move
And now i'm just asking for You to show me
how You move
because i can't do it on my own,
how can i create without my Creator
show me the way You make the wind
move through the trees,
tousle my hair,
caress my face.
i want to stand by Your side
when You conduct the morning
to see the light turn every leaf gold, watch
it overwhelm the shadows, spilling over to
backyards and sleepy flowers,
filling another sinner's eyes
with hope
with what do You weave the galaxies?
does the flame move in the same rhythm
as the ocean? what is it about rain that
is heartbreaking and
breathtaking?
i don't understand
how everything You touch becomes beautiful
You're the greatest artist in history
using trash to create a masterpiece
Masterpiece
me
looking like You?
we've used opposite colors to paint oddly stimulating things
but You take death and give life
You take weakness and turn it into strength
You take a child and give him the greatest name in heaven
the bravest artist in history
how many canvases would Your blood paint, Jesus of Nazareth?
for i want to live the life of an artist
to be held in madness of spirit until
my pen spills the poetry of Your starry skies
every word shaking the heart until no walls are left
i want to be an artist
to rise up and fight in the front lines
to stare the enemy in the eyes, show them
what they can never do
to create
because all he does is twist, contort, and lie
devil are you ever satisfied?
i want to dance the dance of salvation until the
prisoners are set free, dance with his fire in my limbs
until the world stops to see
until i feel You dance with me
i want to write songs that will make the darkest demons shudder at the sound of the first note, songs that will reach the chambers of hell to make the devil cry for help
i want to live this life, letting my art be so alive it hurts just to start,
because it means so much
but i am nothing without You
my choreography senseless, my songs empty
if You are not the source
for it is with Love that you created your art
and that is the secret in every star,
every mountain, every creature, every raindrop.
You are love, my Lord
and i'll spend every paintbrush on You.
how You move
because i can't do it on my own,
how can i create without my Creator
show me the way You make the wind
move through the trees,
tousle my hair,
caress my face.
i want to stand by Your side
when You conduct the morning
to see the light turn every leaf gold, watch
it overwhelm the shadows, spilling over to
backyards and sleepy flowers,
filling another sinner's eyes
with hope
with what do You weave the galaxies?
does the flame move in the same rhythm
as the ocean? what is it about rain that
is heartbreaking and
breathtaking?
i don't understand
how everything You touch becomes beautiful
You're the greatest artist in history
using trash to create a masterpiece
Masterpiece
me
looking like You?
we've used opposite colors to paint oddly stimulating things
but You take death and give life
You take weakness and turn it into strength
You take a child and give him the greatest name in heaven
the bravest artist in history
how many canvases would Your blood paint, Jesus of Nazareth?
for i want to live the life of an artist
to be held in madness of spirit until
my pen spills the poetry of Your starry skies
every word shaking the heart until no walls are left
i want to be an artist
to rise up and fight in the front lines
to stare the enemy in the eyes, show them
what they can never do
to create
because all he does is twist, contort, and lie
devil are you ever satisfied?
i want to dance the dance of salvation until the
prisoners are set free, dance with his fire in my limbs
until the world stops to see
until i feel You dance with me
i want to write songs that will make the darkest demons shudder at the sound of the first note, songs that will reach the chambers of hell to make the devil cry for help
i want to live this life, letting my art be so alive it hurts just to start,
because it means so much
but i am nothing without You
my choreography senseless, my songs empty
if You are not the source
for it is with Love that you created your art
and that is the secret in every star,
every mountain, every creature, every raindrop.
You are love, my Lord
and i'll spend every paintbrush on You.
Life forms
Dancing is as breathing to me.
I cannot sit through a song without
the flooding of choreography through my mind.
When I am on the dance floor,
I am not merely moving,
I am existing
in the greatest form I could take on.
I cannot sit through a song without
the flooding of choreography through my mind.
When I am on the dance floor,
I am not merely moving,
I am existing
in the greatest form I could take on.
The Times
whoa, we're children of the immigration
the procrastination
top of the world but we don't even know what we're standing on
news reporters commenting on the fair weather
we got thirty pairs of shoes but no idea who made the leather
we talk about stickin it to the authorities
then we turn off our brains and consume 3 hours of MTV
they got us on plastic leashes
because we're just a flock of blind sheep
bound by plastic reasons
getting tricked to think that we can buy our beauty
using their products they claim which satisfy, say we need
but what's a house without a home,
the new paint and perfect lawn if its hiding ashes inside
everyday the father strides across the perfect flowers,
past the polished door frame into the living room, dead
with the tears of a son who solves his pain with video games
with the tears of a daughter who will never trust another man again
with the tears of an infant who doesn't have enough to eat
with the tears of a mother who is scared of the place she sleeps
dead, but the vintage furniture collects every drop
the stainless carpet is a still ocean, the paintings on the wall don't whisper
a word.
mother vacuums the floor twice a week but her little girl still cuts herself everyday
father drives the fastest car but doesn't know the way to his own son's heart
the TV gets bigger and bigger, the ipods get smaller and smaller,
the lights get brighter and brighter, the SAT scores get higher and higher
and the house is filled with sound, sounds of everything possible--
of things blowing up, cars roaring, plates grinding, water running, feet scuffling, music blasting, TV babbling, AIM chiming, clock striking, fire crackling, a pencil falling but no conversations,
what's a house without a home?
What's the use of a flawless exterior if the inside is crumbling?
Of what use is it if a man gains the whole world, but forfeits his soul?
the procrastination
top of the world but we don't even know what we're standing on
news reporters commenting on the fair weather
we got thirty pairs of shoes but no idea who made the leather
we talk about stickin it to the authorities
then we turn off our brains and consume 3 hours of MTV
they got us on plastic leashes
because we're just a flock of blind sheep
bound by plastic reasons
getting tricked to think that we can buy our beauty
using their products they claim which satisfy, say we need
but what's a house without a home,
the new paint and perfect lawn if its hiding ashes inside
everyday the father strides across the perfect flowers,
past the polished door frame into the living room, dead
with the tears of a son who solves his pain with video games
with the tears of a daughter who will never trust another man again
with the tears of an infant who doesn't have enough to eat
with the tears of a mother who is scared of the place she sleeps
dead, but the vintage furniture collects every drop
the stainless carpet is a still ocean, the paintings on the wall don't whisper
a word.
mother vacuums the floor twice a week but her little girl still cuts herself everyday
father drives the fastest car but doesn't know the way to his own son's heart
the TV gets bigger and bigger, the ipods get smaller and smaller,
the lights get brighter and brighter, the SAT scores get higher and higher
and the house is filled with sound, sounds of everything possible--
of things blowing up, cars roaring, plates grinding, water running, feet scuffling, music blasting, TV babbling, AIM chiming, clock striking, fire crackling, a pencil falling but no conversations,
what's a house without a home?
What's the use of a flawless exterior if the inside is crumbling?
Of what use is it if a man gains the whole world, but forfeits his soul?
2 Kings 7:3-11
there is no relief for them
they who see the world behind bars, wearing skin like chains
a thousand tears for every scar
the world has forsaken them
so as these four stand at the entrance to the city, to them but a gate separating hell
from hell, one question is echoed
Why stay here until we die?
There is death everywhere
It leaks from broken skin to city gates that have been gripped by bony hands, failed by famine
there is no relief (when hellfire feeds on your flesh everyday)
there is no relief (when burying the dead is just a routine)
there is no relief
so let's go over to the enemy and surrender. If they spare us, we live; if they kill us, then we die.
in the dusk
four lepers wander through the enemy camp
in no state of defense, eyes weak and feet weary,
ready to fall at the enemy's feet
are instead met with the aftermath of a great Victory
met with food that filled their empty stomachs
clothes that replaced rags
gold and silver; riches beyond what they could ever imagine
and in the dead of the night
their hearts sang,
leaking back to city gates that were gripped by bony hands,
leaking back to people just like them
to the forgotten, the broken, the rejected
Here is good news
**
how did i stumble upon the impossible?
sitting still in the darkness, just
fine
fine as dead, lusting after shadows
consumed, scattering into dust while satan teaches me to smile as my soul breaks, breaks, breaks.....
when everything hurts, what's the point anymore? i've already sinned so much
let me just surrender to the enemy
you.
how many splintering fields of glass did you have to walk through, before you found me?
how much of the darkness did you have to wade through to find my hand?
because i don't know what light feels like
not this light
they've lied to me before, the shadows
giving me the fluorescent and the fleeting, filling me then watching me bleed it all away, again
until my tears turned dry
but you found me
here in my darkest hour and instead of the blow i expected you showed me
the blows you took for me,
the blood you shed for me,
the life you gave for me
AND OH HOW I DIED IN YOUR MERCY and melted in your gaze, surrendered instead this life to you in disbelief of the new life
you'd been trying to give me
And to this day my soul crumples underneath the weight of this grace I can't explain,
a God who met me when i wandered the enemy's camp
showing me the Victory He had already won
giving me the treasure of Jesus Christ,
who is my love
and my life
and my story.
good news
Jesus came for sinners
good news
He uses what's broken to create a masterpiece
good news
He's starting with you. and me.
what's your story?
they who see the world behind bars, wearing skin like chains
a thousand tears for every scar
the world has forsaken them
so as these four stand at the entrance to the city, to them but a gate separating hell
from hell, one question is echoed
Why stay here until we die?
There is death everywhere
It leaks from broken skin to city gates that have been gripped by bony hands, failed by famine
there is no relief (when hellfire feeds on your flesh everyday)
there is no relief (when burying the dead is just a routine)
there is no relief
so let's go over to the enemy and surrender. If they spare us, we live; if they kill us, then we die.
in the dusk
four lepers wander through the enemy camp
in no state of defense, eyes weak and feet weary,
ready to fall at the enemy's feet
are instead met with the aftermath of a great Victory
met with food that filled their empty stomachs
clothes that replaced rags
gold and silver; riches beyond what they could ever imagine
and in the dead of the night
their hearts sang,
leaking back to city gates that were gripped by bony hands,
leaking back to people just like them
to the forgotten, the broken, the rejected
Here is good news
**
how did i stumble upon the impossible?
sitting still in the darkness, just
fine
fine as dead, lusting after shadows
consumed, scattering into dust while satan teaches me to smile as my soul breaks, breaks, breaks.....
when everything hurts, what's the point anymore? i've already sinned so much
let me just surrender to the enemy
you.
how many splintering fields of glass did you have to walk through, before you found me?
how much of the darkness did you have to wade through to find my hand?
because i don't know what light feels like
not this light
they've lied to me before, the shadows
giving me the fluorescent and the fleeting, filling me then watching me bleed it all away, again
until my tears turned dry
but you found me
here in my darkest hour and instead of the blow i expected you showed me
the blows you took for me,
the blood you shed for me,
the life you gave for me
AND OH HOW I DIED IN YOUR MERCY and melted in your gaze, surrendered instead this life to you in disbelief of the new life
you'd been trying to give me
And to this day my soul crumples underneath the weight of this grace I can't explain,
a God who met me when i wandered the enemy's camp
showing me the Victory He had already won
giving me the treasure of Jesus Christ,
who is my love
and my life
and my story.
good news
Jesus came for sinners
good news
He uses what's broken to create a masterpiece
good news
He's starting with you. and me.
what's your story?
Rain
rain
a thousand ripples every second
spreading softly beneath my feet, beneath the white sky
it has left, finally
free
i love the way
raindrops dance as they hit the floor with
heavenly strength, a percussion reserved only for
days such as this
days when the floor becomes a lake, reflecting your face and making you feel as if you'll
fall into the sky with every step
days when you feel as if your every sense is on fire because every breath is ice and every raindrop is
something new
i love the rain
i love the way certain branches darken when they're wet, bringing out the color in leaves and flowers
i love looking up and seeing birds fly in the downpour, because they make me wonder
how it feels to soar in a storm, feathers heavy but defying gravity
i love how this morning i woke up to "Grace like Rain" and walked outside only to
find myself in awe of
You
once again.
a thousand ripples every second
spreading softly beneath my feet, beneath the white sky
it has left, finally
free
i love the way
raindrops dance as they hit the floor with
heavenly strength, a percussion reserved only for
days such as this
days when the floor becomes a lake, reflecting your face and making you feel as if you'll
fall into the sky with every step
days when you feel as if your every sense is on fire because every breath is ice and every raindrop is
something new
i love the rain
i love the way certain branches darken when they're wet, bringing out the color in leaves and flowers
i love looking up and seeing birds fly in the downpour, because they make me wonder
how it feels to soar in a storm, feathers heavy but defying gravity
i love how this morning i woke up to "Grace like Rain" and walked outside only to
find myself in awe of
You
once again.
Old Friends
hi
it's been a while since i've allowed you to look at me
this way.
seeing past my sin, my prayers my actions
and straight to my heart
letting you sit with me on the quiet days, when i can't seem to form holy words
learning your majesty in empty cups and dirty sidewalks
i have been one with hands gripped to the tool
working more, loving less
but you are gently unfurling my fists
placing strawberries in my palm
making me feel the bark of a tree
reminding me that hands are made to hold
another
meant to wipe away tears and strum guitars
hands are personal
and i've been learning about yours
sometimes i forget that letting you have your way with me
means
paint splattered clothes as i listen to you opera/jazz/funk sing out your new composition while i
try and get the story right, you don't mind odd strokes but despise boxed passion
maybe i'll read your letters while glancing at you from time to time, letting you flip the page
instead of reading them like we're long-distance
i wonder, if you ever hum?
Jesus the disciples got to
go on boats with you and watch you a ride a colt that's never been ridden before, they saw
you silence Pharisees and make prostitutes feel beautiful in a way they've never felt before
they walked miles with you, knew your every facial expression and even your catchphrases
they've been frightened to death on the mount of Transfiguration
and humbled speechless as you kneeled to wash their feet in a house
it's been a while since i've allowed you into every conversation,
every thought and dream
like what wouldn't you know about Shakespeare or not getting the perfect technique or chocolate
fetishes because nothing is hidden in your sight and
you are the CREATOR,
you know how to start
and end
every conversation.
i think i will allow you to take me dancing more often
cause when we do it's wild
making thunderstorms and meteor showers seem calm
whoa. hallelujah.
i want to be old friends with you, with secrets between us
running deeper than the sea into prehistoric rocks
knowing you beyond even time would allow
to know your laugh, and to know
the touch of your hand.
it's been a while since i've allowed you to look at me
this way.
seeing past my sin, my prayers my actions
and straight to my heart
letting you sit with me on the quiet days, when i can't seem to form holy words
learning your majesty in empty cups and dirty sidewalks
i have been one with hands gripped to the tool
working more, loving less
but you are gently unfurling my fists
placing strawberries in my palm
making me feel the bark of a tree
reminding me that hands are made to hold
another
meant to wipe away tears and strum guitars
hands are personal
and i've been learning about yours
sometimes i forget that letting you have your way with me
means
paint splattered clothes as i listen to you opera/jazz/funk sing out your new composition while i
try and get the story right, you don't mind odd strokes but despise boxed passion
maybe i'll read your letters while glancing at you from time to time, letting you flip the page
instead of reading them like we're long-distance
i wonder, if you ever hum?
Jesus the disciples got to
go on boats with you and watch you a ride a colt that's never been ridden before, they saw
you silence Pharisees and make prostitutes feel beautiful in a way they've never felt before
they walked miles with you, knew your every facial expression and even your catchphrases
they've been frightened to death on the mount of Transfiguration
and humbled speechless as you kneeled to wash their feet in a house
it's been a while since i've allowed you into every conversation,
every thought and dream
like what wouldn't you know about Shakespeare or not getting the perfect technique or chocolate
fetishes because nothing is hidden in your sight and
you are the CREATOR,
you know how to start
and end
every conversation.
i think i will allow you to take me dancing more often
cause when we do it's wild
making thunderstorms and meteor showers seem calm
whoa. hallelujah.
i want to be old friends with you, with secrets between us
running deeper than the sea into prehistoric rocks
knowing you beyond even time would allow
to know your laugh, and to know
the touch of your hand.
Firsts
11/29/08
in the midnight hours
cold, quiet with slivers of moonlight catching dust in this room
i look for life
the life that you gave to me that day as i lay dying
breath bleeding out of me, murdered by this world
the light leaving my eyes until you found me
you found me
you told me your story, of how you
knew me,
of how you were nailed to a Cross 2,000 years ago
for the crimes of humanity
because you love the ones behind bars
enough to free them with your blood
to call them your own
you know all about flesh
you know all about dirt
you know all about pain
you know all about heartbreak
they call you God because they think you're high and lofty, distanced an eternity away from this speck we call earth
but i call you God because you dare to be so close to your creation
closer than ocean and shore, closer than
the air we breathe
before any of us let a tear fall
you cried.
before any of us could dance and chant with the thunderstorm
you laughed
before any of us could utter a word
you wrote poems, you weaved compositions you took the essence of language and made it your crown
for we are made in Your Holy image, and what we are
is but a glimpse of who you are
you, the only one worthy of self
so as i sit here
like many nights before when my soul
resigns weary, and my heart is a storm
i look for life
remembering who i was
who i am
and who moves the very sands of time
down hourglasses of crystal perfection,
stopping only to stun this world with grace
upon grace upon grace upon grace,
He whose name is Love.
in the midnight hours
cold, quiet with slivers of moonlight catching dust in this room
i look for life
the life that you gave to me that day as i lay dying
breath bleeding out of me, murdered by this world
the light leaving my eyes until you found me
you found me
you told me your story, of how you
knew me,
of how you were nailed to a Cross 2,000 years ago
for the crimes of humanity
because you love the ones behind bars
enough to free them with your blood
to call them your own
you know all about flesh
you know all about dirt
you know all about pain
you know all about heartbreak
they call you God because they think you're high and lofty, distanced an eternity away from this speck we call earth
but i call you God because you dare to be so close to your creation
closer than ocean and shore, closer than
the air we breathe
before any of us let a tear fall
you cried.
before any of us could dance and chant with the thunderstorm
you laughed
before any of us could utter a word
you wrote poems, you weaved compositions you took the essence of language and made it your crown
for we are made in Your Holy image, and what we are
is but a glimpse of who you are
you, the only one worthy of self
so as i sit here
like many nights before when my soul
resigns weary, and my heart is a storm
i look for life
remembering who i was
who i am
and who moves the very sands of time
down hourglasses of crystal perfection,
stopping only to stun this world with grace
upon grace upon grace upon grace,
He whose name is Love.
Desert Prayer
praise God
because He has taught me quietly
that the love for the maker of the universe
is not like that of a fickle flame
prone to leap high, high then
quench at the merest tease of a summer wind
no it resides
in the desert of a broken heart
with tired eyes and a paper of a voice
saying, "I need you"
and "Father, I seek You"
you see this love is not a feeling
because even when you are feeling
like all hope is gone, it pulls you
and brushes you and
holds you
until you find His hand again
He's taught me to walk beside Him
not fly, not leap, not conquer the braving waves
but simply walk. in quiet, muffled days, fever
distortion
until God, like a magnificent eagle
takes you to soar the wild skies
because He has taught me quietly
that the love for the maker of the universe
is not like that of a fickle flame
prone to leap high, high then
quench at the merest tease of a summer wind
no it resides
in the desert of a broken heart
with tired eyes and a paper of a voice
saying, "I need you"
and "Father, I seek You"
you see this love is not a feeling
because even when you are feeling
like all hope is gone, it pulls you
and brushes you and
holds you
until you find His hand again
He's taught me to walk beside Him
not fly, not leap, not conquer the braving waves
but simply walk. in quiet, muffled days, fever
distortion
until God, like a magnificent eagle
takes you to soar the wild skies
The Redeeming
in the fall, there is a lifting
in the darkness, a shimmering
in weakness, a strengthening
in slumber, an awakening
in brokenness, a healing
in defense, a surrendering
in Him
a redeeming
in the darkness, a shimmering
in weakness, a strengthening
in slumber, an awakening
in brokenness, a healing
in defense, a surrendering
in Him
a redeeming
Where did all the smiles go?
Where did all the smiles Go?
where did the smiles go
who stole them?
i found one a little rusty beside a box of achievements
and yet another, stuffed in a makeup bag
there was one accidentally caught in the junk mail, of someone's email account
and another framed in an orthodontist's office
i remember a time
when money didn't have to be used as bait
when winning wasn't the reason
and crude humor didn't pull the trigger
a time when
smiling wasn't a mask
a facade
a task that required effort
wasn't an attack
a weapon designed, with hidden purposes
because if my memory serves me right
those long-forgotten smiles
the ones perhaps retained in photographs and dreams
were free
they caught faces like the summer breeze does
with no intention
these smiles created art, not graffiti
the love, the joy, the faith so evident
they were not worn for a camera
but were so unconscious, so unplanned, so unaware
not even the turn of the lips could predict such wonder
and these smiles were not just found at the lips
but in the eyes.
where did all the smiles go?
i found one, on a little girl's window when the first day of spring sent lilies
on the assignment covered desk of a teenager, messy except for a note from mom saying his favorite sandwich is in the fridge
there was one between strangers on a rainy day, both pedestrians forgetting umbrellas
one on a hot cup of chocolate, handed to a man sleeping next to a dumpster.
it's when i find these rare ones
that i am reminded of the beautiful Truth
this world just cannot erase
where did the smiles go
who stole them?
i found one a little rusty beside a box of achievements
and yet another, stuffed in a makeup bag
there was one accidentally caught in the junk mail, of someone's email account
and another framed in an orthodontist's office
i remember a time
when money didn't have to be used as bait
when winning wasn't the reason
and crude humor didn't pull the trigger
a time when
smiling wasn't a mask
a facade
a task that required effort
wasn't an attack
a weapon designed, with hidden purposes
because if my memory serves me right
those long-forgotten smiles
the ones perhaps retained in photographs and dreams
were free
they caught faces like the summer breeze does
with no intention
these smiles created art, not graffiti
the love, the joy, the faith so evident
they were not worn for a camera
but were so unconscious, so unplanned, so unaware
not even the turn of the lips could predict such wonder
and these smiles were not just found at the lips
but in the eyes.
where did all the smiles go?
i found one, on a little girl's window when the first day of spring sent lilies
on the assignment covered desk of a teenager, messy except for a note from mom saying his favorite sandwich is in the fridge
there was one between strangers on a rainy day, both pedestrians forgetting umbrellas
one on a hot cup of chocolate, handed to a man sleeping next to a dumpster.
it's when i find these rare ones
that i am reminded of the beautiful Truth
this world just cannot erase
ABC
It is midnight and I
surprise myself by giving heart to some words
I thought might just sit in the chambers of my mind
without much flight.
Rhythm is so much worth dying for
than rhyme.
Now if everything in our little peculiar world
had this rhyme to it
What a scare it would be, no?
The galaxies, the planets, the oceans, the animals, the words, the equations
Our
breaths, our motives, our beliefs, our reason, our feelings, our heartbeats
all. perfectly. in rhyme, in time, same sign, in line.
As monotonous as a straight line, dimension one, shortest distance
between two points. Or so they say.
Oh, but think about it!
Let us introduce the slightly- no, always& odd friend. Mr. Triangle
he takes it to dimension two, with three lines, and three points
Picture with me, do you see? The straight line, but ever so clearly
The two other lines that make a mountain, a straight up and down
Between point A. and point B. Is it point C? Possibly.
Cruel, they cry. Absolutely cruel because frankly
humanity just does not want to climb the mountain of point C
Why are there tears and why do the babies never seem
To find their mothers and why, they scream
is injustice constantly in victory with
the rapists claiming bodies and
murderers gaining lives and
a nation starving, hunger taunted with apathy
Why, I ask
is the world tearing at seams seemingly giving in
falling at the hypocrisy
of what a religion claims to be.
Falling at the corruption
of what the love, the faith, the forgiveness
of what a preacher should live; now all he does is
tell of hellfire and advertise his holiness
The churches that have exploited, that have taken countless lives,
that have blackened the names and given so little space
for the rare, but genuine followers of a man named Jesus Christ.
who died for this very hypocrisy.
for the people who gave their lives up because they knew it was about love, and not hate
Falling into fear
Like, the tough-masked everything's-fine mister who says I can' t get too close to you
because I just might
break
down, because you see I can* t expose my soft side; that kind doesn' t make it in the world anymore
or I don't want to risk my neck for that
because secretly, I want it so bad, my passions are burning so high for that
I might just die if I find out I gave my all and I didn' t measure up.
These are just few, of the many mountains in life. These are the slanted lines
But I guess the road to point C, that treacherous journey up only to know you' re going back down
changes something. Shifts something.
It is so hard to bear, so much harder than taking the straight line
And of course I always wonder why
But oh.
How you gain a dimension when you take on the struggle
How your appreciation takes upon new wings when you finish descending point C
How the perspective atop the mountaintop, when you finally reach it
was worth entirely the struggle of the uphill.
The sweet breath of a life up there, like nothing on land.
The view, indescribable.
So that when you descend again, you take something with you. Every time.
Like how only in darkness, a light can shine its brightest
And in the churning ocean waters, a piece of land cherished above value
Mr. Odd Triangle. Funny how he is able to instruct so much
tangent
maybe you are an individual
there's something about you that's just different.
there's something in you that skyrockets your worth
maybe you are one in a million.
But those who are one in a million, are but only numbers
until they become one for a million
the art of serving someone requires far more character
than the art of leading.
will you wash the feet of men?
I hope you never settle for the comfort of the straight lines
and that you'd never lose your sense of wonder
and always let your faith have room to breathe.
surprise myself by giving heart to some words
I thought might just sit in the chambers of my mind
without much flight.
Rhythm is so much worth dying for
than rhyme.
Now if everything in our little peculiar world
had this rhyme to it
What a scare it would be, no?
The galaxies, the planets, the oceans, the animals, the words, the equations
Our
breaths, our motives, our beliefs, our reason, our feelings, our heartbeats
all. perfectly. in rhyme, in time, same sign, in line.
As monotonous as a straight line, dimension one, shortest distance
between two points. Or so they say.
Oh, but think about it!
Let us introduce the slightly- no, always& odd friend. Mr. Triangle
he takes it to dimension two, with three lines, and three points
Picture with me, do you see? The straight line, but ever so clearly
The two other lines that make a mountain, a straight up and down
Between point A. and point B. Is it point C? Possibly.
Cruel, they cry. Absolutely cruel because frankly
humanity just does not want to climb the mountain of point C
Why are there tears and why do the babies never seem
To find their mothers and why, they scream
is injustice constantly in victory with
the rapists claiming bodies and
murderers gaining lives and
a nation starving, hunger taunted with apathy
Why, I ask
is the world tearing at seams seemingly giving in
falling at the hypocrisy
of what a religion claims to be.
Falling at the corruption
of what the love, the faith, the forgiveness
of what a preacher should live; now all he does is
tell of hellfire and advertise his holiness
The churches that have exploited, that have taken countless lives,
that have blackened the names and given so little space
for the rare, but genuine followers of a man named Jesus Christ.
who died for this very hypocrisy.
for the people who gave their lives up because they knew it was about love, and not hate
Falling into fear
Like, the tough-masked everything's-fine mister who says I can' t get too close to you
because I just might
break
down, because you see I can* t expose my soft side; that kind doesn' t make it in the world anymore
or I don't want to risk my neck for that
because secretly, I want it so bad, my passions are burning so high for that
I might just die if I find out I gave my all and I didn' t measure up.
These are just few, of the many mountains in life. These are the slanted lines
But I guess the road to point C, that treacherous journey up only to know you' re going back down
changes something. Shifts something.
It is so hard to bear, so much harder than taking the straight line
And of course I always wonder why
But oh.
How you gain a dimension when you take on the struggle
How your appreciation takes upon new wings when you finish descending point C
How the perspective atop the mountaintop, when you finally reach it
was worth entirely the struggle of the uphill.
The sweet breath of a life up there, like nothing on land.
The view, indescribable.
So that when you descend again, you take something with you. Every time.
Like how only in darkness, a light can shine its brightest
And in the churning ocean waters, a piece of land cherished above value
Mr. Odd Triangle. Funny how he is able to instruct so much
tangent
maybe you are an individual
there's something about you that's just different.
there's something in you that skyrockets your worth
maybe you are one in a million.
But those who are one in a million, are but only numbers
until they become one for a million
the art of serving someone requires far more character
than the art of leading.
will you wash the feet of men?
I hope you never settle for the comfort of the straight lines
and that you'd never lose your sense of wonder
and always let your faith have room to breathe.
Impossible
it's quiet, tonight
here beneath your merciful gaze, stars filtering the light that robes you
Abba Father, hear my heart.
Take it into your hands, Jesus Son of God.
You give rest for the weary, I will stop and fall
at your feet
On that day that she woke up, and went to the well
I wonder if
she felt the wind of salvation ripple through her hair
Jesus Son of God you saw her eyes as you told her
about living water
did she dare believe?
You are more than a healer
You are more than a friend
You are more than one who can sympathize with us in our sin
You are the Lord Almighty, Your Name is exalted above all names
You are God, and what in creation should not tremble before you?
Tremble because of fear, but we tremble because of a love
that they told us was impossible
never to reach this place, so destitute
and broken
where fathers rape daughters and purity is a term long discarded
a place
where people live in slavery, chained to desire
willing to settle for scraps, willing to take lashes
forgetting their worth
dying in so many ways
they told us that love
is not real, is not strong, is but another sentiment
and that sentiment is for the weak
they threw the money in the cage and told us to fight for it
that our lives depended on the paper that
pranced whimsically in the air, dancing in our blind eyes
crumpling in our grasping hands
they always kept our hands busy
with homework, with papers, with real work, 9 to 5 graveyard overtime work
and then half of your life flies by and you don't even notice
until you're sitting there, the same coffee you've been ordering for 30 years sitting in your hand
wishing you knew what it meant to be alive, wishing you had done so much more with your time
they tell us to forget about truth,
forget about the things of the soul and spirit
that you're a fool to think there's anything but
the physical realm, everything but a product of chance
that you're just another case study of biology,
a complex anatomy evolved from simplicity
a body that will cease to exist in the dust
but that's not enough, they must kill
every last remainder of hope in the human heart
and silence that small voice that says from deep within
maybe all this has meaning
so what do they do?
they chain us to their plan
so perfectly mundane, so mechanical
that we forget about our real desires
and eat from their hands
what we long for, is love
so they feed us with course after course of lust
hours and hours of this sexual perversion, until we're so full of emptiness we can't even
feel
anymore
they tell the boy to become a man by the number of girls he has in his hands
tell him
to take the power, to take her hair in his fists and call her
whore, call her slut, she's just an object for him to use, she's not a person
they tell him how shameful virginity is, giving him
hundreds of girls to look at on the screen
so that he can forget about falling in love with that one
woman
they tell the girl to become a woman by the number of guys that have looked her way
her body is the only thing that gives her worth
so they successfully enslave her with the mirror, as long as she
is never content with who she sees, they will keep her going to men for affirmation
when she starts to cry for worth, for true beauty
they drag her to the bedroom, they use the men to put invisible cuffs on her
they pound into her heart with every thrust that this is the way
to feel like you're worth something.
They lead you all your life
to dead ends,
so that you will never believe
in the things that seem 'too good'
in the songs that move you to tears
in the people that tell you there's more to live for
that there is a way out,
a way in
to that which humanity has searched for, battled for, died for since the beginning
his name only whispered when a life is dangling above the abyss of death, so close
his name as the subject only in times of utmost desperation
at those times satan's lies fail, for only when caught in absolute darkness does one realize
how much they need the light
God is love
and maybe life starts with you looking up
Truth
Truth itself is not persuasive,
unlike the shapely words of man
along with the great vigor commanded by those eyes,
those features
Truth is innocent, it is quiet
Yet it professes
Its light shines out in a way a candle flame does in the darkness,
not like the flash-white bulbs of its fluorescent relatives
Yet truth draws seeking minds close
not because of anything it promises
not because of the attractive garments man throws upon it
but because truth speaks the only language
clear enough, tremendous enough
to break the human heart
unlike the shapely words of man
along with the great vigor commanded by those eyes,
those features
Truth is innocent, it is quiet
Yet it professes
Its light shines out in a way a candle flame does in the darkness,
not like the flash-white bulbs of its fluorescent relatives
Yet truth draws seeking minds close
not because of anything it promises
not because of the attractive garments man throws upon it
but because truth speaks the only language
clear enough, tremendous enough
to break the human heart
Secret in the Sand
We're all trooping around this desert,
looking for some kind of miracle..to lift us away.
And maybe it's the haze,
maybe it's the weight of the repetitive days,
that slows us down...
I don't know where this faint wind is taking us,
nor how many more miles to go
But I know, that the living water ain't no illusion-
and I know, this bright blue in the sky ain't no hallucination
Stop and sweat a smile to the lost tumbleweed
because though its footsteps are as unpredictable as ours
Sometimes we can cry-
and feel the blisters prick with fury at our feet
But sometimes we can hope-
and curiously watch soft faith stretch its delicate wings
We are not a lost people, tumbling to the depths of forever in the sand
No. We are moving, changing, breathing spirits
With every storm coordinated, and every footstep foreseen
So though the desert traps you like an endless maze
start, continue, even fall-- knowing that
meaning so tremendous quivers the very particles of sand beneath you
waiting for you to open your eyes, and discover it.
looking for some kind of miracle..to lift us away.
And maybe it's the haze,
maybe it's the weight of the repetitive days,
that slows us down...
I don't know where this faint wind is taking us,
nor how many more miles to go
But I know, that the living water ain't no illusion-
and I know, this bright blue in the sky ain't no hallucination
Stop and sweat a smile to the lost tumbleweed
because though its footsteps are as unpredictable as ours
Sometimes we can cry-
and feel the blisters prick with fury at our feet
But sometimes we can hope-
and curiously watch soft faith stretch its delicate wings
We are not a lost people, tumbling to the depths of forever in the sand
No. We are moving, changing, breathing spirits
With every storm coordinated, and every footstep foreseen
So though the desert traps you like an endless maze
start, continue, even fall-- knowing that
meaning so tremendous quivers the very particles of sand beneath you
waiting for you to open your eyes, and discover it.
Inimitable
could you dream me up, such a story?
where freedom reigns and mercy falls
like gentle rain on thirsted earth, grasping
and the thousand faceless stand emptyhanded
their features stolen
choreograph your words, and let them display to me
where real vision lies, and how verity whispers;
the secrets tucked safe beneath hard layers of crust;
hidden in the depths of the core, too blazing to touch
paint me a picture and reveal to me
the love in hearts of stone, given with hope
that after his storms, His light might shine a little more
or simply hold my hand
and let the silence speak
but
can't you see
His blood is the only thing that sets us free
where freedom reigns and mercy falls
like gentle rain on thirsted earth, grasping
and the thousand faceless stand emptyhanded
their features stolen
choreograph your words, and let them display to me
where real vision lies, and how verity whispers;
the secrets tucked safe beneath hard layers of crust;
hidden in the depths of the core, too blazing to touch
paint me a picture and reveal to me
the love in hearts of stone, given with hope
that after his storms, His light might shine a little more
or simply hold my hand
and let the silence speak
but
can't you see
His blood is the only thing that sets us free
Constellations
My life is declared,
and the words are not definite,
for the story is still unwritten-
But some things are for certain:
These wings are withered,
These lips parched,
unworthy of living water.
There is nothing in the ability.
I chose the font of these words, and am offering this heart for the author to write upon
with a pen called grace, not a pencil-
For the author writes perfectly, and there is no need for an eraser.
So why do we dwell on regret?
Let us push forth then like the constellations,
for we know full well there is a promised sky for us to stretch our wings.
And the God
of the entire universe
catching us, and lifting us back up when we fall
and the words are not definite,
for the story is still unwritten-
But some things are for certain:
These wings are withered,
These lips parched,
unworthy of living water.
There is nothing in the ability.
I chose the font of these words, and am offering this heart for the author to write upon
with a pen called grace, not a pencil-
For the author writes perfectly, and there is no need for an eraser.
So why do we dwell on regret?
Let us push forth then like the constellations,
for we know full well there is a promised sky for us to stretch our wings.
And the God
of the entire universe
catching us, and lifting us back up when we fall
Hurt Surrenders To Grace
All else crumbles silently to the ground
until I see what I've been fighting for
standing clear as the dust quiets
what in this life could mean anymore?
To have my heart be filled with Your amazing love
so that all the tiny scars don't mean anything anymore
while hurt surrenders to grace
Lord Jesus.
when we think about the heart-breaking beauty
displayed on the cross
everything is bearable.
everything.
until I see what I've been fighting for
standing clear as the dust quiets
what in this life could mean anymore?
To have my heart be filled with Your amazing love
so that all the tiny scars don't mean anything anymore
while hurt surrenders to grace
Lord Jesus.
when we think about the heart-breaking beauty
displayed on the cross
everything is bearable.
everything.
Like Loving Was All We Knew.
we are not meant to stay in the beauty of the mountain peaks
but to go forth into the brokenness of the valleys, the lost deserts
and let His life live through us
so that we may lift the weary-hearted, and mend their tattered wings
to kiss the lost child on the forehead and hold her, him, close
like loving was all we knew.
so that we are
breathing, fighting, living, dying
to show them that there there is hope out of this mess
their worth immeasurable in the eyes of a King
and that they are beautiful, in every sense of the word
meant to live for so much More
but to go forth into the brokenness of the valleys, the lost deserts
and let His life live through us
so that we may lift the weary-hearted, and mend their tattered wings
to kiss the lost child on the forehead and hold her, him, close
like loving was all we knew.
so that we are
breathing, fighting, living, dying
to show them that there there is hope out of this mess
their worth immeasurable in the eyes of a King
and that they are beautiful, in every sense of the word
meant to live for so much More
Water, why are you always so sad?
deep, deep is the cry of the ocean
when rain stirs its waters and wind rallies terror
deep is the wail of the keeper of waves
falling, falling are the droplets of rain
onto leaves and through cobwebs on a soft autumn's day
breaking on the back of a ladybug into beads
courageous, courageous is the journey of a tear
crossing a universe with the weight of ten thousand pains
clashing silently with the world
water, always moving hearing nothing never stopping
water, why are you always so sad?
a faint pitter patter on my window.
shh,
there is beauty in the broken.
when rain stirs its waters and wind rallies terror
deep is the wail of the keeper of waves
falling, falling are the droplets of rain
onto leaves and through cobwebs on a soft autumn's day
breaking on the back of a ladybug into beads
courageous, courageous is the journey of a tear
crossing a universe with the weight of ten thousand pains
clashing silently with the world
water, always moving hearing nothing never stopping
water, why are you always so sad?
a faint pitter patter on my window.
shh,
there is beauty in the broken.
Letting Go
the Past has such an
irresistable song
when you let it sing to you, like that
getting all tangled up in
the melody. of a memory
don't you know
it sings me
to tears, sometimes?
but tell me
have you seen the sky cry, before?
and in the pouring, running, amazing rain
a tear. nearly stops in its tracks
have you felt sunset divine, on your body before?
and in the softening, speaking, breathing rays
a fear. almost feels safe
or have you traced, the faithful lights of night before?
and in the winking, twinkling, singing stars
a hope. gets to ride across the galaxies
then let us take heart and hear no longer
the croon of the once-had nightingale
but be fully, incomprehensibly, blown away
by what all of creation falls breathless at--
He
Is
God
who gives meaning to awe as He breaks the clouds and let fall the echoes, of a million broken hearts
who dreamt color and mixed them into a wonderful melange of sun and sky and sea, so our eyes could never deny
who gives us guardian angels in the surrounding darkness to remind us that light. will always be worth fighting for
and knowing that our life's song
is in the hands of one who crafted the very first Beautiful
be still then, and listen
for His promised melodies
irresistable song
when you let it sing to you, like that
getting all tangled up in
the melody. of a memory
don't you know
it sings me
to tears, sometimes?
but tell me
have you seen the sky cry, before?
and in the pouring, running, amazing rain
a tear. nearly stops in its tracks
have you felt sunset divine, on your body before?
and in the softening, speaking, breathing rays
a fear. almost feels safe
or have you traced, the faithful lights of night before?
and in the winking, twinkling, singing stars
a hope. gets to ride across the galaxies
then let us take heart and hear no longer
the croon of the once-had nightingale
but be fully, incomprehensibly, blown away
by what all of creation falls breathless at--
He
Is
God
who gives meaning to awe as He breaks the clouds and let fall the echoes, of a million broken hearts
who dreamt color and mixed them into a wonderful melange of sun and sky and sea, so our eyes could never deny
who gives us guardian angels in the surrounding darkness to remind us that light. will always be worth fighting for
and knowing that our life's song
is in the hands of one who crafted the very first Beautiful
be still then, and listen
for His promised melodies
No more.
let's think
time in Eternity's hands
this earth, but in a few gusts of wind
gone
the great, roaring salt-hashing oceans
dried to the very last drop
the sun that rises, sets, and lights
will never again rest in our eyes
no more
scrambling to wake up at 6 am
wondering where you put your car keys
holding your breath when she passes by
waving hello to the stranger on the street
smiling and saying thank you to the vendor
crying because instead of an A, you got a C
falling and hitting earth and bandaging your wound
changes from autumn to winter, to spring
summer nights and chasing fireflies
counting stars and wondering what exactly they're made of
mom to nag you to put on a jacket, it's cold outside
donation boxes to the hungry in Africa, Europe, Asia, America...
waiting until 8 pm to watch the final episode
yelling at the 6-year old cell phone for horrible signal
wondering about the meaning of life
no more
no more
all the 1s, 2s, getting from here to there, the "important" things
all gone
gone with the wind, fading with the dust, shrinking
until existence forgets itself
Eternity
seconds become hours that break into minutes until only Eternity stands.
where only He,
stands
time in Eternity's hands
this earth, but in a few gusts of wind
gone
the great, roaring salt-hashing oceans
dried to the very last drop
the sun that rises, sets, and lights
will never again rest in our eyes
no more
scrambling to wake up at 6 am
wondering where you put your car keys
holding your breath when she passes by
waving hello to the stranger on the street
smiling and saying thank you to the vendor
crying because instead of an A, you got a C
falling and hitting earth and bandaging your wound
changes from autumn to winter, to spring
summer nights and chasing fireflies
counting stars and wondering what exactly they're made of
mom to nag you to put on a jacket, it's cold outside
donation boxes to the hungry in Africa, Europe, Asia, America...
waiting until 8 pm to watch the final episode
yelling at the 6-year old cell phone for horrible signal
wondering about the meaning of life
no more
no more
all the 1s, 2s, getting from here to there, the "important" things
all gone
gone with the wind, fading with the dust, shrinking
until existence forgets itself
Eternity
seconds become hours that break into minutes until only Eternity stands.
where only He,
stands
Legend.
1:40 am what is wrong with me
and why does the past always always, always seem better than the present
and why am i the product of a horrid society
and why can't i just drop my nets and follow the Fisher of men
and why do i feel so empty and useless and heavily sad
like i've got no words in me left
and people are just strangers
just drifting by, catch the glance and throw a smile
sick, sick, sick
there is nothing in this world
nothing
nothing
nothing
but my soul cannot contend for this
this gray area of complacency
and drudgery- and the stifling of a hope
no.
i am created for a Legend
and the dreams that are more bolder
and more beautiful than any guarantee
the green paper offers me
and if these wings fail then surely these knees
will find light
find flight in the wings of He who lifts the broken
Devil just can't see
all i need is a bruising, a breaking and a misery
and that is how hope finds me
my bruises, Devil, call Him nearer
can't hold me down, tell me this grayness
is just what i want
we
are
Revolutionaries
the mouth that harbors the tongue that strikes like the sharpest, steel sword
and the throat that hides the voice that goes from whisper to yelling,
Give me liberty
or give me death.
and the heart that holds the faith that gives you a relationship with God
God, almighty God, God of the daisies and mitochondria and astroids
God who takes a useless, graying soul
breathes hope into it, gives life to it
so that on the 4th, 7th, 19th, 60th time down
He's already counted to infinity and His arms are there every single time
Devil how do you fare
i've got a story
He is my story
and why does the past always always, always seem better than the present
and why am i the product of a horrid society
and why can't i just drop my nets and follow the Fisher of men
and why do i feel so empty and useless and heavily sad
like i've got no words in me left
and people are just strangers
just drifting by, catch the glance and throw a smile
sick, sick, sick
there is nothing in this world
nothing
nothing
nothing
but my soul cannot contend for this
this gray area of complacency
and drudgery- and the stifling of a hope
no.
i am created for a Legend
and the dreams that are more bolder
and more beautiful than any guarantee
the green paper offers me
and if these wings fail then surely these knees
will find light
find flight in the wings of He who lifts the broken
Devil just can't see
all i need is a bruising, a breaking and a misery
and that is how hope finds me
my bruises, Devil, call Him nearer
can't hold me down, tell me this grayness
is just what i want
we
are
Revolutionaries
the mouth that harbors the tongue that strikes like the sharpest, steel sword
and the throat that hides the voice that goes from whisper to yelling,
Give me liberty
or give me death.
and the heart that holds the faith that gives you a relationship with God
God, almighty God, God of the daisies and mitochondria and astroids
God who takes a useless, graying soul
breathes hope into it, gives life to it
so that on the 4th, 7th, 19th, 60th time down
He's already counted to infinity and His arms are there every single time
Devil how do you fare
i've got a story
He is my story
The God I Serve
For He is the great and glorious God
who out of all the people--
the millionaires, the celebrities, the world-wide renowned pastors, the martyrs, the war champions, the Einsteins
chooses the little girl and boy sitting next to the well
dirt poor
to be the richest in His kingdom
the King of all Kings
who comes down to earth as a carpenter's son
for 30 years, and uses not one display of power
a perfect Being
who chooses to write, in spite of all of His innumerable plans for existence
the one plan
in which He will die.
do you know love?
the plan in which His body is beaten and broken
the blood running as real as spring rain
as He hangs on a cross that we should have died on
for every murderer, rapist, liar, evil thought, and black heart
He takes the sentence
and after mercy, gives grace
so to all of creation
they are able to have a relationship with the God of the universe
to think that this is a God
who does not give the gift of heaven to the smartest, the fittest, the most perfect
but rather to those who have faith like a child--
what a Creator.
you know what else is amazing?
that in a world where one does need to search up the definition of evil
because it is ubiquitous
He gives us everlasting hope
that never burns out like fickle flame
because He overcame the world
the One who washed the disciples' feet because He loved them
who came into this world to serve
who stepped into darkness to give light
who intervened with the Hand of death to give life
who is Life
this is the God I serve
who out of all the people--
the millionaires, the celebrities, the world-wide renowned pastors, the martyrs, the war champions, the Einsteins
chooses the little girl and boy sitting next to the well
dirt poor
to be the richest in His kingdom
the King of all Kings
who comes down to earth as a carpenter's son
for 30 years, and uses not one display of power
a perfect Being
who chooses to write, in spite of all of His innumerable plans for existence
the one plan
in which He will die.
do you know love?
the plan in which His body is beaten and broken
the blood running as real as spring rain
as He hangs on a cross that we should have died on
for every murderer, rapist, liar, evil thought, and black heart
He takes the sentence
and after mercy, gives grace
so to all of creation
they are able to have a relationship with the God of the universe
to think that this is a God
who does not give the gift of heaven to the smartest, the fittest, the most perfect
but rather to those who have faith like a child--
what a Creator.
you know what else is amazing?
that in a world where one does need to search up the definition of evil
because it is ubiquitous
He gives us everlasting hope
that never burns out like fickle flame
because He overcame the world
the One who washed the disciples' feet because He loved them
who came into this world to serve
who stepped into darkness to give light
who intervened with the Hand of death to give life
who is Life
this is the God I serve
Warriors
it's different
God's spirit lives
in me
my chains are cast off, i am forever free
and joy, joy, joy beyond the smiles and laughter of this world
burns within me.
so when destruction and death's hands grip my neck
my wrist
my ankles
and keep me from speaking, dancing
when the devil's paintbrush splashes his paint across the lives of others i hold so dear
lives i would die for
i do not fear
i used to
crumble, let my heart give in to his hopelessness-
endless misery my heart flickering just falling into his painting
i used to drown too, in their tears
forgetting the light within me- he made sure of it
but devil
you fool.
why enter the war against Victory?
though their tears and the bleeding of their souls
kills me, breaks me to the last breath
i remember the light within me- He makes sure of it
you break only to let Him heal
you drain only to let Him revive
you take away only to let Him give
Himself, Christ Jesus
goodbye devil, the Cross is your end
love bought your slaves
so i enter now into the battlefield
not to slay but to save
the blood of the Savior in my veins
the strength of the Spirit pushing me forward
my weapons of truth, righteousness, peace, faith.
love
the battle cry of the angels above
i already see to my right
a girl dying and her mother in quicksand, she looks for the knight in shining armor
but can't see the arrows in her side
i walk on and see the boy walking to the enemy's ranks, his shield dropping slowly
then a clamor to my left and i see this young woman just surrounded by death's army
and she's on her knees and where's her family, any oasis seems tempting
i look behind me and there's the beautiful blue-eyed princess,
they've got her in chains and taken away her voice, but she cries
i see in the mist the millions getting pierced, not knowing the light not knowing the darkness
and still the millions who see the fight
who are fighting the fight
dropping to my side
yet i see brave warriors
who though an army besiege
drive away the darkness with one word
i see them sustain that one humble candlelight fueled by Him everlasting
prevail over blackest night and fiercest storm
warriors in the ranks of the Almighty
then
seven trumpet calls and the King steps onto the battlefield for the war to end all wars
time, space, matter gone
the dominion of eternal light.
it is near
fight the Good fight, your brothers and sisters are beside you
Christ Jesus is with you
we have the power to give life.
His kingdom is here
and now
and coming.
God's spirit lives
in me
my chains are cast off, i am forever free
and joy, joy, joy beyond the smiles and laughter of this world
burns within me.
so when destruction and death's hands grip my neck
my wrist
my ankles
and keep me from speaking, dancing
when the devil's paintbrush splashes his paint across the lives of others i hold so dear
lives i would die for
i do not fear
i used to
crumble, let my heart give in to his hopelessness-
endless misery my heart flickering just falling into his painting
i used to drown too, in their tears
forgetting the light within me- he made sure of it
but devil
you fool.
why enter the war against Victory?
though their tears and the bleeding of their souls
kills me, breaks me to the last breath
i remember the light within me- He makes sure of it
you break only to let Him heal
you drain only to let Him revive
you take away only to let Him give
Himself, Christ Jesus
goodbye devil, the Cross is your end
love bought your slaves
so i enter now into the battlefield
not to slay but to save
the blood of the Savior in my veins
the strength of the Spirit pushing me forward
my weapons of truth, righteousness, peace, faith.
love
the battle cry of the angels above
i already see to my right
a girl dying and her mother in quicksand, she looks for the knight in shining armor
but can't see the arrows in her side
i walk on and see the boy walking to the enemy's ranks, his shield dropping slowly
then a clamor to my left and i see this young woman just surrounded by death's army
and she's on her knees and where's her family, any oasis seems tempting
i look behind me and there's the beautiful blue-eyed princess,
they've got her in chains and taken away her voice, but she cries
i see in the mist the millions getting pierced, not knowing the light not knowing the darkness
and still the millions who see the fight
who are fighting the fight
dropping to my side
yet i see brave warriors
who though an army besiege
drive away the darkness with one word
i see them sustain that one humble candlelight fueled by Him everlasting
prevail over blackest night and fiercest storm
warriors in the ranks of the Almighty
then
seven trumpet calls and the King steps onto the battlefield for the war to end all wars
time, space, matter gone
the dominion of eternal light.
it is near
fight the Good fight, your brothers and sisters are beside you
Christ Jesus is with you
we have the power to give life.
His kingdom is here
and now
and coming.
Conversation
hi
i like the way you've made the flowers
so bright yet humble, standing out against sidewalks
how'd you think of that?
how is it that sunrise never loses its beauty?
i think you're
Great
because you created a universe with black holes and
lady bugs
and math equations, like 1+1=2.
you know..i miss our conversations
when you'll take me by the hand
and show me the world
you really are the most beautiful...essence
existence. what are you? i am existence
you are...everlasting. the infinite
you are all.
i cannot believe, still, that out of all things
you chose something called love to rule over all
wait
you are love
could i love you? i really want to love you, deeply
but it seems all i can give is a speck of what you've given me
that of which i can barely comprehend
me, a friend?
this is already mind-blowingly hard that i would not use language like
King, Savior, and Almighty One
to talk to you here
that this- this is okay
that i'm...your friend
and oh, that i could dance with you?
teach me the steps
there could be nothing better than that
Jesus, i want to know you more.
i like the way you've made the flowers
so bright yet humble, standing out against sidewalks
how'd you think of that?
how is it that sunrise never loses its beauty?
i think you're
Great
because you created a universe with black holes and
lady bugs
and math equations, like 1+1=2.
you know..i miss our conversations
when you'll take me by the hand
and show me the world
you really are the most beautiful...essence
existence. what are you? i am existence
you are...everlasting. the infinite
you are all.
i cannot believe, still, that out of all things
you chose something called love to rule over all
wait
you are love
could i love you? i really want to love you, deeply
but it seems all i can give is a speck of what you've given me
that of which i can barely comprehend
me, a friend?
this is already mind-blowingly hard that i would not use language like
King, Savior, and Almighty One
to talk to you here
that this- this is okay
that i'm...your friend
and oh, that i could dance with you?
teach me the steps
there could be nothing better than that
Jesus, i want to know you more.
1 Peter 5:7
Father, thank you for your love that astonished angels
a love that truly has no bounds
surpassing our finite knowledge
surpassing the crimes of our hands
limitless, timeless, reasonless
crumbling hows
and whys
You care for me.
it is 9 am and I am dragging my reluctant feet to class and You care
it is 9:47 and I am thinking nothing my murderous thoughts towards the people next to me and You care
it is 10 and I am drained because life is draining and nothing has meaning and You care
it is 3:12 and I don't know what to do because her life is messed up beyond reason and You care
it is 7:59 pm and no one has morals and apathy permeates like a disease and maybe I don't care and You care
it is 11:30 pm and I walk past the man sitting by himself and You care
it had to take
the crippling stumble to Calvary
and four nails through Your beautiful hands
divine blood trickling down the Cross
Your eyes in painful agony, forsaken
and the stopping of Your heartbeat
for us to start caring
Jesus, I pray our lives to be of such glory to You
that it would make galaxies tremble
and hush nature into silence
I pray for our love for You to be so strong
that humanity would have to wonder of this joy that dances upon our soul
simply
stunned
I want a love for You so tremendous that even the angels would have to stop their song, stop their flight
and stand,
astonished.
a love that truly has no bounds
surpassing our finite knowledge
surpassing the crimes of our hands
limitless, timeless, reasonless
crumbling hows
and whys
You care for me.
it is 9 am and I am dragging my reluctant feet to class and You care
it is 9:47 and I am thinking nothing my murderous thoughts towards the people next to me and You care
it is 10 and I am drained because life is draining and nothing has meaning and You care
it is 3:12 and I don't know what to do because her life is messed up beyond reason and You care
it is 7:59 pm and no one has morals and apathy permeates like a disease and maybe I don't care and You care
it is 11:30 pm and I walk past the man sitting by himself and You care
it had to take
the crippling stumble to Calvary
and four nails through Your beautiful hands
divine blood trickling down the Cross
Your eyes in painful agony, forsaken
and the stopping of Your heartbeat
for us to start caring
Jesus, I pray our lives to be of such glory to You
that it would make galaxies tremble
and hush nature into silence
I pray for our love for You to be so strong
that humanity would have to wonder of this joy that dances upon our soul
simply
stunned
I want a love for You so tremendous that even the angels would have to stop their song, stop their flight
and stand,
astonished.
The Forgotten Artist
who are You?
great Breather of notes
giving space for every sound to dance, until noise
spins to beauty,
and brings forth emotion from even the most calloused heart
the Great Musician
who created this universal language to resurrect the dead
and speak to the shut
i will use my sad little voice, which often bends and breaks
to sing the song of your salvation
joining in with creation
to burst out in passion and absolute bliss and stretch
every fiber of this soul
to bring glory to Your majesty
it is the highest honor
the highest honor, my Lord
great Breather of notes
giving space for every sound to dance, until noise
spins to beauty,
and brings forth emotion from even the most calloused heart
the Great Musician
who created this universal language to resurrect the dead
and speak to the shut
i will use my sad little voice, which often bends and breaks
to sing the song of your salvation
joining in with creation
to burst out in passion and absolute bliss and stretch
every fiber of this soul
to bring glory to Your majesty
it is the highest honor
the highest honor, my Lord
1+1=2
i'm thirsty, God
so thirsty
filled with dreams so great, they freeze my fingertips
i'm trembling before you
because i've fallen in love.
and this love, it screams in definition
parting seas and exploding stars
how did i stumble upon the impossible?
sitting still in the darkness, just
fine
fine as dead, lusting after shadows
consumed, scattering into dust while satan teaches me to smile as my soul breaks, breaks, breaks.....
you.
how many splintering fields of glass did you have to walk through, before you found me?
how much of the darkness did you have to wade through to find my hand?
because i don't know what light feels like
not this light
they've lied to me before, the shadows
giving me the fluorescent and the fleeting, filling me then watching me bleed it all away, again
until my tears turned dry
but you didn't stop
i saw you, they tried to stop you, tried to hurt you
so badly
i didn't know you could bleed
i wanted to stop you, scream go back because maybe you thought i was someone else, someone worth saving, because i didn't even know who you were.
you didn't stop
i started to cry because in the light, i saw your blood flow as streams and streams
i have never before seen
what i saw in your eyes, as they hurt you
and my heart broke truly for the first time, as i learned what love was
you could have saved yourself then
but you didn't
you didn't stop
they killed you.
it is so dark
in here
cold, i am cold but how can it be warmth doesn't exist
i thought...
but it was a dream. love, love. oh, those eyes
silence.
one,
two,
three
Galaxies.
The spinning star The flowing stream Colors spilling just filling the darkness
Blue, yellow, red, brown, violet, orange, green
kissing every sky, sun, rose, earth, petal, fruit and tree
My eyes could see
hands and feet, the girl who helped the boy rise up from the dirt, her smile so real
an eagle gracing the sky with its magnificent wings, flying above an ocean with so much life beneath
so much life
i saw the mirror that is man, that is woman, reflecting the only truth i ever knew
That man.
The one who found me when I was at my last breath, the one who fought the darkness around me and in me
until his final breath
The one who said "I love you" with his eyes, conquering death forever
The one who, now I know, is the Giver of life
The one who showed me who God is
I have fallen in love.
His name is Jesus Christ, His name is God.
I do not know what religion is, but I do know what it feels like to dance with the Creator of the universe.
I am small, and this mind stretches to grasp what He has to say sometimes
The darkness lures me from time to time, and I fall
But love is always the net, and His arms are always open. He took the fall for me
What I can give, will never seem enough
What I can see, is just a glimpse of who He is
You think that reality is built upon 1+1
=2
He is more real to me than this.
More tangible than the wing of a butterfly.
My home is in eternity.
I am a living failure,
living in Victory
so thirsty
filled with dreams so great, they freeze my fingertips
i'm trembling before you
because i've fallen in love.
and this love, it screams in definition
parting seas and exploding stars
how did i stumble upon the impossible?
sitting still in the darkness, just
fine
fine as dead, lusting after shadows
consumed, scattering into dust while satan teaches me to smile as my soul breaks, breaks, breaks.....
you.
how many splintering fields of glass did you have to walk through, before you found me?
how much of the darkness did you have to wade through to find my hand?
because i don't know what light feels like
not this light
they've lied to me before, the shadows
giving me the fluorescent and the fleeting, filling me then watching me bleed it all away, again
until my tears turned dry
but you didn't stop
i saw you, they tried to stop you, tried to hurt you
so badly
i didn't know you could bleed
i wanted to stop you, scream go back because maybe you thought i was someone else, someone worth saving, because i didn't even know who you were.
you didn't stop
i started to cry because in the light, i saw your blood flow as streams and streams
i have never before seen
what i saw in your eyes, as they hurt you
and my heart broke truly for the first time, as i learned what love was
you could have saved yourself then
but you didn't
you didn't stop
they killed you.
it is so dark
in here
cold, i am cold but how can it be warmth doesn't exist
i thought...
but it was a dream. love, love. oh, those eyes
silence.
one,
two,
three
Galaxies.
The spinning star The flowing stream Colors spilling just filling the darkness
Blue, yellow, red, brown, violet, orange, green
kissing every sky, sun, rose, earth, petal, fruit and tree
My eyes could see
hands and feet, the girl who helped the boy rise up from the dirt, her smile so real
an eagle gracing the sky with its magnificent wings, flying above an ocean with so much life beneath
so much life
i saw the mirror that is man, that is woman, reflecting the only truth i ever knew
That man.
The one who found me when I was at my last breath, the one who fought the darkness around me and in me
until his final breath
The one who said "I love you" with his eyes, conquering death forever
The one who, now I know, is the Giver of life
The one who showed me who God is
I have fallen in love.
His name is Jesus Christ, His name is God.
I do not know what religion is, but I do know what it feels like to dance with the Creator of the universe.
I am small, and this mind stretches to grasp what He has to say sometimes
The darkness lures me from time to time, and I fall
But love is always the net, and His arms are always open. He took the fall for me
What I can give, will never seem enough
What I can see, is just a glimpse of who He is
You think that reality is built upon 1+1
=2
He is more real to me than this.
More tangible than the wing of a butterfly.
My home is in eternity.
I am a living failure,
living in Victory
Fill me
she is
darker eyeliner and fabric that nearly meshes
with taut skin, stretched over delicate frame
forced
the scars of words etched upon every surface
father, he throws endless stones
they shatter her soul, she breathes
boyfriend, hurling the sticks as he storms out
leaves her, again
they leave her, again so she has nothing left but
hunger
a hunger for truth, for love, for joy, for meaning, for that which fills
but as the sticks and stones crash and fall, fly towards her
the little girl now trembling in the corner
she fights with the only strength left
even if it means starving herself to death
dear stranger,
did you know
you have a Father in heaven
who thinks you more beautiful than the sunrise?
His eyes look upon you with love, with pride
Every strand of your hair, more precious than gold
Made with love so deep and rich, even angels hush in awe
it is unbreakable
don't break yourself any longer
fill yourself with the bread of life
darker eyeliner and fabric that nearly meshes
with taut skin, stretched over delicate frame
forced
the scars of words etched upon every surface
father, he throws endless stones
they shatter her soul, she breathes
boyfriend, hurling the sticks as he storms out
leaves her, again
they leave her, again so she has nothing left but
hunger
a hunger for truth, for love, for joy, for meaning, for that which fills
but as the sticks and stones crash and fall, fly towards her
the little girl now trembling in the corner
she fights with the only strength left
even if it means starving herself to death
dear stranger,
did you know
you have a Father in heaven
who thinks you more beautiful than the sunrise?
His eyes look upon you with love, with pride
Every strand of your hair, more precious than gold
Made with love so deep and rich, even angels hush in awe
it is unbreakable
don't break yourself any longer
fill yourself with the bread of life
Origami
she folds paper feathers
nimble fingers bending and pressing
until there sits in her hand the shape
of a little crane
crane 23, crane 109, crane 200
every bird strung neatly from her ceiling,
a heaven with wings for stars
she's not crazy
just
fragile.
like paper, her heart seems to be
folded in every direction, by hands too many
the crane is her strength,
her support
her only sense of control
paper, it dries so easily
so it is impossible to see
the tears that fell into each feather as she,
with trembling hands tried for her always constant victory
oh, beautiful origami girl
stop those hands for once,
and let Him hold them won't you trade your paper wings for the real thing?
nimble fingers bending and pressing
until there sits in her hand the shape
of a little crane
crane 23, crane 109, crane 200
every bird strung neatly from her ceiling,
a heaven with wings for stars
she's not crazy
just
fragile.
like paper, her heart seems to be
folded in every direction, by hands too many
the crane is her strength,
her support
her only sense of control
paper, it dries so easily
so it is impossible to see
the tears that fell into each feather as she,
with trembling hands tried for her always constant victory
oh, beautiful origami girl
stop those hands for once,
and let Him hold them won't you trade your paper wings for the real thing?
Give & Take
if they took my words away
praise God, for then my heart would sing even deeper
even deeper than this
muffle me.
that the communication paths between me, and my Lover
are only filled with static, laced with doubt
my hope will only solidify, and my dreams plead higher
for the words only He can speak to me
take my dignity away
my MTV-injected image of what woman's supposed to be,
fitting into every single rule of the world
and all of its cryptic lies
my fatal pride
oh, this pride
yes take it, for then i can
dance naked in the streets like David, without restrain
letting my vocals wring out the last drops of Hallelujah until
no man is thirsty.
take my health away
riddling my skin with torment until eyes are forced to tear
it leaves only greater room for God's glory, His glory
the only glory that matters
take my possessions
my money, my clothes, my food, my dreams
so as to help me know that His grace is sufficient for me
so i'd find Real treasure
take, take, take
empty me, because there maybe
after you go through everything, and realize its futility
you might take Him
though not mines to give, but He uses the weak
for this is Real treasure, imperishable inheritance,
perfect possession, unfraying joy
the gift of Jesus Christ, the son of God, Lord of heaven and earth
whose willing death on humble Cross bought your first breath
into Life, and what is this Life now?
take, take, take
you can't take anymore
for your hands, heart, and soul have been so filled by the Creator
it overflows, and this flood of grace is almost unbearable
you understand the language of the sun's rays now, as it
rushes through fields of yellow flowers, showering you with a glow
that is almost tangible
the stars dance now, the entire galaxy at the work of a composer
where was that anger, that bitterness, that depression that chained you for so long?
that quiet sense of drowning in which you just did not care anymore?
Christ cast your chains off, though taking on your shackles ripped His flesh
and now you've been ushered into a freedom that cannot be explained,
only experienced, like knowing that soul must exist for the body doesn't even
know the steps to this dance
and joy, joy, joy beyond fickle happiness lies behind a genuine smile
you've never known a smile like this
you've had wishful thinkings of perfection, concocted visions of paradise but
its never been more than daydreams
this here is real.
it takes you by the hand even when you don't want to go,
healing everything within you. this love cannot be imagined, it is
too tangible to even be called tangible, it is deeper and stronger
than anything you have ever known.
every single word in that Book, alive and moving in your life
speaking truth and not the lies that used to govern
people say. you've changed, it's strange, it's..
a 180? it's a 360, a revolution, not a spin back to the start but to a new start
you're a new creation
and you don't even need the miracles anymore, for you have faith
although they do astound you and cause little breaths of praise to slip off your mouth as you stand in wonder
the healings, the languages of angels, the prophecies
most of all, the saving of a soul as you see someone else
find the stairway to heaven.
praise God, for then my heart would sing even deeper
even deeper than this
muffle me.
that the communication paths between me, and my Lover
are only filled with static, laced with doubt
my hope will only solidify, and my dreams plead higher
for the words only He can speak to me
take my dignity away
my MTV-injected image of what woman's supposed to be,
fitting into every single rule of the world
and all of its cryptic lies
my fatal pride
oh, this pride
yes take it, for then i can
dance naked in the streets like David, without restrain
letting my vocals wring out the last drops of Hallelujah until
no man is thirsty.
take my health away
riddling my skin with torment until eyes are forced to tear
it leaves only greater room for God's glory, His glory
the only glory that matters
take my possessions
my money, my clothes, my food, my dreams
so as to help me know that His grace is sufficient for me
so i'd find Real treasure
take, take, take
empty me, because there maybe
after you go through everything, and realize its futility
you might take Him
though not mines to give, but He uses the weak
for this is Real treasure, imperishable inheritance,
perfect possession, unfraying joy
the gift of Jesus Christ, the son of God, Lord of heaven and earth
whose willing death on humble Cross bought your first breath
into Life, and what is this Life now?
take, take, take
you can't take anymore
for your hands, heart, and soul have been so filled by the Creator
it overflows, and this flood of grace is almost unbearable
you understand the language of the sun's rays now, as it
rushes through fields of yellow flowers, showering you with a glow
that is almost tangible
the stars dance now, the entire galaxy at the work of a composer
where was that anger, that bitterness, that depression that chained you for so long?
that quiet sense of drowning in which you just did not care anymore?
Christ cast your chains off, though taking on your shackles ripped His flesh
and now you've been ushered into a freedom that cannot be explained,
only experienced, like knowing that soul must exist for the body doesn't even
know the steps to this dance
and joy, joy, joy beyond fickle happiness lies behind a genuine smile
you've never known a smile like this
you've had wishful thinkings of perfection, concocted visions of paradise but
its never been more than daydreams
this here is real.
it takes you by the hand even when you don't want to go,
healing everything within you. this love cannot be imagined, it is
too tangible to even be called tangible, it is deeper and stronger
than anything you have ever known.
every single word in that Book, alive and moving in your life
speaking truth and not the lies that used to govern
people say. you've changed, it's strange, it's..
a 180? it's a 360, a revolution, not a spin back to the start but to a new start
you're a new creation
and you don't even need the miracles anymore, for you have faith
although they do astound you and cause little breaths of praise to slip off your mouth as you stand in wonder
the healings, the languages of angels, the prophecies
most of all, the saving of a soul as you see someone else
find the stairway to heaven.
Worth
see how the world clothes you in sheets of sin, entangling
but wonderfully terrifying, for you know no better
as you treat yourself like meat
ripped to shreds
by lusting wolves
while you dress medium rare because it is what he always prefers
as you treat yourself like a slab of stone
chipping away because perfection is just at the edge,
or so they say. but you're crumbling
as you treat yourself like a machine
forever trying to function properly, exceedingly
churning out lines and lines of A's and 100 percents
so that mommy and daddy finally pay you your wage
of worth.
how much is that worth
is she worth it, is he worth it
is this worth your time
let us measure the worth in dimes
are you worth it?
As He played with the dreams upon His fingertips, of atoms and galaxies
all beautifully unborn
He thought of them, the things to come, and that day
where He would be pierced so deeply that His blood would run like a river
and with a joy unfelt before in any human heart, set the very first second into motion
and spoke into the trembling darkness, Let there be light.
because to Him, they were worth it all.
could you read yourself, like a poem?
not skimming, but understanding the words that
were only given to you, deeper than the sea
a rhythm that even angels long to have
could you look at yourself, like a painting?
to see how every etch and blur and hint of color
is necessary for the final masterpiece
to be in awe of every brilliant stroke and filling
could you hear yourself, like a song?
do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti
so lovely
every note to send chills down the spine
every note that the limbs just cannot resist
glorious, but not because of you
for without the Poet you are just vocabulary
without the Artist you are just scribbles
without the Composer you are just noise
but you are His greatest masterpiece,
purchased by His own life to be priceless
Made in His own image
meant for divinity
but wonderfully terrifying, for you know no better
as you treat yourself like meat
ripped to shreds
by lusting wolves
while you dress medium rare because it is what he always prefers
as you treat yourself like a slab of stone
chipping away because perfection is just at the edge,
or so they say. but you're crumbling
as you treat yourself like a machine
forever trying to function properly, exceedingly
churning out lines and lines of A's and 100 percents
so that mommy and daddy finally pay you your wage
of worth.
how much is that worth
is she worth it, is he worth it
is this worth your time
let us measure the worth in dimes
are you worth it?
As He played with the dreams upon His fingertips, of atoms and galaxies
all beautifully unborn
He thought of them, the things to come, and that day
where He would be pierced so deeply that His blood would run like a river
and with a joy unfelt before in any human heart, set the very first second into motion
and spoke into the trembling darkness, Let there be light.
because to Him, they were worth it all.
could you read yourself, like a poem?
not skimming, but understanding the words that
were only given to you, deeper than the sea
a rhythm that even angels long to have
could you look at yourself, like a painting?
to see how every etch and blur and hint of color
is necessary for the final masterpiece
to be in awe of every brilliant stroke and filling
could you hear yourself, like a song?
do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti
so lovely
every note to send chills down the spine
every note that the limbs just cannot resist
glorious, but not because of you
for without the Poet you are just vocabulary
without the Artist you are just scribbles
without the Composer you are just noise
but you are His greatest masterpiece,
purchased by His own life to be priceless
Made in His own image
meant for divinity
The Meeting
ink hovers close
breathing thought on her porcelain skin
enticing
at first touch
worlds collide,
the first word is a legend.
soon after, the letters fall like rain
life begins in the white desert
pieces of dreams hidden in ink capsules
their mission
to sprinkle this water on dry hearts
sparking Life
paper
ink
a dream
breathing thought on her porcelain skin
enticing
at first touch
worlds collide,
the first word is a legend.
soon after, the letters fall like rain
life begins in the white desert
pieces of dreams hidden in ink capsules
their mission
to sprinkle this water on dry hearts
sparking Life
paper
ink
a dream
Romans 8:37-39
even when the rush is gone and
the fires have burned down
until only ashes flutter in the distance,
my faith as fickle
as the flippant flame
i cannot deny, i could never deny
cannot, as hard as i try to attribute all to chance's dance and self-strength
forget
when you fed me when i was starving
gave me what could fill me when the world dangled scraps
can't forget
the living water you quenched my thirst with,
like nothing ever i have tasted
drops of heaven that overwhelmed me
can't forget when i was fighting the darkness
every breath being pummeled out of me
because it was your hand that clasped mine
and as i lifted my tear-stained eyes,
saw you extinguish the darkness with one gesture
it is your love that i cannot run away from,
no matter how much i force my heart to shut up
as i force and consume
the sin that consumes me piece by piece, you wait at
the Cross. i brush you aside, choose satan's delicacies
but you don't move from that Cross.
as i pound my fists at the air, angry at your silence
and screaming until knees and lungs fail
i find myself at your Cross, and i'm pounding
against your broken body,
but you, God you..
with the power to obliterate a galaxy
don't move the nails,
don't stop my fists,
don't stop looking at me with those eyes,
i can't take those eyes because they penetrate
in a way that kills me,
the very words i've been running away from,
that your eyes say over and
over again,
I love you, I love
you.
I love you even when your heart is not in the right place
I love you when you're neck deep in sin, and have walked down the enemy's steps
I love you when you reject my word
I love you,
because you are mine, and I have created you and know you to the depths of your innermost being
I love you because I made you in my image, because you were the joy that allowed me to scorn the shame of the Cross
and die, for you
I love you, and
neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither present nor future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate you from
My love.
the fires have burned down
until only ashes flutter in the distance,
my faith as fickle
as the flippant flame
i cannot deny, i could never deny
cannot, as hard as i try to attribute all to chance's dance and self-strength
forget
when you fed me when i was starving
gave me what could fill me when the world dangled scraps
can't forget
the living water you quenched my thirst with,
like nothing ever i have tasted
drops of heaven that overwhelmed me
can't forget when i was fighting the darkness
every breath being pummeled out of me
because it was your hand that clasped mine
and as i lifted my tear-stained eyes,
saw you extinguish the darkness with one gesture
it is your love that i cannot run away from,
no matter how much i force my heart to shut up
as i force and consume
the sin that consumes me piece by piece, you wait at
the Cross. i brush you aside, choose satan's delicacies
but you don't move from that Cross.
as i pound my fists at the air, angry at your silence
and screaming until knees and lungs fail
i find myself at your Cross, and i'm pounding
against your broken body,
but you, God you..
with the power to obliterate a galaxy
don't move the nails,
don't stop my fists,
don't stop looking at me with those eyes,
i can't take those eyes because they penetrate
in a way that kills me,
the very words i've been running away from,
that your eyes say over and
over again,
I love you, I love
you.
I love you even when your heart is not in the right place
I love you when you're neck deep in sin, and have walked down the enemy's steps
I love you when you reject my word
I love you,
because you are mine, and I have created you and know you to the depths of your innermost being
I love you because I made you in my image, because you were the joy that allowed me to scorn the shame of the Cross
and die, for you
I love you, and
neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither present nor future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate you from
My love.
That's what he said.
I don't want to drive a car to your love.
It's
such a waste, missing everything along the way
too quick and rushed and illegitimate
They tell me
Martha Mondays and
Tina Tuesdays
but I don't see you
like that.
They buy you roses for a taste of your lips
take you dancing to get their hands on your hips
as they end the day with a candle-lit dinner
waiting for you to undress, as you convince yourself this one might just love you right; real.
And you let this next one have you, like so many others have
Could i protest?
and fight for your beautiful soul, you are so much more
than your figure
Could i tell you
about God? about a man named Jesus who
gave his life for you to set you free, forever
who loves you more deeply than you could ever imagine
He is the Creator of flowers, showing you new ones every day
and when He takes you to dance, your feet will never hit the ground
He is light that is everlasting
And He is the only reason why
I dare to say,
I love you.
I buy you sunflowers to see the smile in your eyes
take you dancing to show you there is always a reason to rejoice
end the day with a candle-lit dinner to try and light you up with the flame I have inside,
tell you about my Lord of light.
waiting for you to confess, that you have finally fallen in love
with Him.
Because i am just an overflow of His wonder, an unfinished work of the Artist
I love you with His dying breaths upon that Cross, I love you with the heart that loved the universe into existence
I love you with the Father's love, to have you understand that you
are a daughter of King, made in His captivating image, meant for divinity
And so, after the dinner
hand in gentle hand,
heart in heart
we can both go Home.
It's
such a waste, missing everything along the way
too quick and rushed and illegitimate
They tell me
Martha Mondays and
Tina Tuesdays
but I don't see you
like that.
They buy you roses for a taste of your lips
take you dancing to get their hands on your hips
as they end the day with a candle-lit dinner
waiting for you to undress, as you convince yourself this one might just love you right; real.
And you let this next one have you, like so many others have
Could i protest?
and fight for your beautiful soul, you are so much more
than your figure
Could i tell you
about God? about a man named Jesus who
gave his life for you to set you free, forever
who loves you more deeply than you could ever imagine
He is the Creator of flowers, showing you new ones every day
and when He takes you to dance, your feet will never hit the ground
He is light that is everlasting
And He is the only reason why
I dare to say,
I love you.
I buy you sunflowers to see the smile in your eyes
take you dancing to show you there is always a reason to rejoice
end the day with a candle-lit dinner to try and light you up with the flame I have inside,
tell you about my Lord of light.
waiting for you to confess, that you have finally fallen in love
with Him.
Because i am just an overflow of His wonder, an unfinished work of the Artist
I love you with His dying breaths upon that Cross, I love you with the heart that loved the universe into existence
I love you with the Father's love, to have you understand that you
are a daughter of King, made in His captivating image, meant for divinity
And so, after the dinner
hand in gentle hand,
heart in heart
we can both go Home.
Clavicembalo
oh, my sweet clavicembalo
i lay a finger upon you and you sing for me
turning the unspoken and suppressed, into symphony
you take both my hands to give you a richer voice
you take my hands,
and pry off the shackles with every note
i am braver today, because of you
my forgiving piano.
now if the piano had a soul, but no eyes
would she know her constructor's hands still?
after so many years, she must be tired
and i am sure many have abused her keys,
playing just a little too hard than necessary
or taking delight in discord
i think the sweet clavicembalo would recognize the hands.
only he can appreciate her full worth
only he knows exactly how to fix her.
i lay a finger upon you and you sing for me
turning the unspoken and suppressed, into symphony
you take both my hands to give you a richer voice
you take my hands,
and pry off the shackles with every note
i am braver today, because of you
my forgiving piano.
now if the piano had a soul, but no eyes
would she know her constructor's hands still?
after so many years, she must be tired
and i am sure many have abused her keys,
playing just a little too hard than necessary
or taking delight in discord
i think the sweet clavicembalo would recognize the hands.
only he can appreciate her full worth
only he knows exactly how to fix her.
It's a Matter of
i know i know
it's embedded in my brain, taped all over
that trigger to my heart
to trust in You
and why wouldn't i trust
the man who died for me, the God who cries for me,
the Painter in the sky who knows me by name
but i don't want false trust, last-minute resort trust
that has scripted written all over it,
like it's just some automatic response
like i'm saying it just because David did
i want real trust
feeling my heart sink with a thousand weights
through an ocean of disorder,
yet being able to claim clarity at the very bottom of it all
walking through that valley where one breath is
sunshine and the other smoke, and trusting the one
who breathed life into me
i want to trust You.
i want to dance in the hurricane and sing the storm
to sleep because you are my God, my God who
has loved me to life
from death, to life
i trust You.
it's embedded in my brain, taped all over
that trigger to my heart
to trust in You
and why wouldn't i trust
the man who died for me, the God who cries for me,
the Painter in the sky who knows me by name
but i don't want false trust, last-minute resort trust
that has scripted written all over it,
like it's just some automatic response
like i'm saying it just because David did
i want real trust
feeling my heart sink with a thousand weights
through an ocean of disorder,
yet being able to claim clarity at the very bottom of it all
walking through that valley where one breath is
sunshine and the other smoke, and trusting the one
who breathed life into me
i want to trust You.
i want to dance in the hurricane and sing the storm
to sleep because you are my God, my God who
has loved me to life
from death, to life
i trust You.
Love is patient
i stopped folding pieces of paper
to try and fill up my time, i know
that this is just me avoiding your eyes
because i am not worthy
because i have stepped on your love letters
because i have given in
i cry until my pillow is damp
but you show me the ocean.
i complain all day long
you give me breath for every curse
love.
is patient,
love is kind
endures all things, believes all things
love never fails
thank you
to try and fill up my time, i know
that this is just me avoiding your eyes
because i am not worthy
because i have stepped on your love letters
because i have given in
i cry until my pillow is damp
but you show me the ocean.
i complain all day long
you give me breath for every curse
love.
is patient,
love is kind
endures all things, believes all things
love never fails
thank you
The Way You Pursue Me.
it's amazing the way your voice weaves through creation
humbling me with crickets
i love it when the rain meets me outside,
every drop a kiss to my soul,
and all i can do,
is stand
sometimes you use the wind
to brush my hair, and all i want to do in that moment
is to ride the breeze to you, flying colliding into your arms
there at home
i miss you, but i know that it is my fault
i need you; i'm sorry
i love you
here is my heart?
how many bridges can i build to get to you
none, your life it cost to bring me to you
hi, Maker of my heart. can i kiss your heart?
because beauty is breathless at the sight of you and
now i don't know what to do
i haven't even seen you yet
i fumble with the darkness, scared like a child
of everything. but you already know, you send your
calm in the middle of the ocean, please grow me
Jesus I want to live the truth
and believe in it with all my heart
so that i would not live in fear
but in perfect love
humbling me with crickets
i love it when the rain meets me outside,
every drop a kiss to my soul,
and all i can do,
is stand
sometimes you use the wind
to brush my hair, and all i want to do in that moment
is to ride the breeze to you, flying colliding into your arms
there at home
i miss you, but i know that it is my fault
i need you; i'm sorry
i love you
here is my heart?
how many bridges can i build to get to you
none, your life it cost to bring me to you
hi, Maker of my heart. can i kiss your heart?
because beauty is breathless at the sight of you and
now i don't know what to do
i haven't even seen you yet
i fumble with the darkness, scared like a child
of everything. but you already know, you send your
calm in the middle of the ocean, please grow me
Jesus I want to live the truth
and believe in it with all my heart
so that i would not live in fear
but in perfect love
The Author's Burden
Lord when you say write i can only say
right,
i barely have time to breathe as your electricity strikes me
and i can only do so much to keep the flowers spilling from my fingertips
every word exploding into existence rapidly, how long did you wait between
creating each star?
i remember as your poetry flashed through my mind like lightning
humbling me until i was on my knees, asking only
that you'd continue to use every fiber of me for your artistic glory
for the words are yours, my Lord, and you are their only master
to touch the reigns is to touch fire, and Lord
i'm an entire forest trembling
because to your words people dance and sing
to your words armies lay down their weapons
to your words the storm calms, the dead girl rises, the blind man sees
to your words, light enters the stage
and i never want to get in the way of your words
my mind is weak but a part of me is screaming
to let you stretch to me to the limit, is there a limit
to the infinity you place inside us? where you dwell, where we draw our words from
like ancient treasure from the depths of the sea
like secrets whispered to the oldest of oak trees
right,
i barely have time to breathe as your electricity strikes me
and i can only do so much to keep the flowers spilling from my fingertips
every word exploding into existence rapidly, how long did you wait between
creating each star?
i remember as your poetry flashed through my mind like lightning
humbling me until i was on my knees, asking only
that you'd continue to use every fiber of me for your artistic glory
for the words are yours, my Lord, and you are their only master
to touch the reigns is to touch fire, and Lord
i'm an entire forest trembling
because to your words people dance and sing
to your words armies lay down their weapons
to your words the storm calms, the dead girl rises, the blind man sees
to your words, light enters the stage
and i never want to get in the way of your words
my mind is weak but a part of me is screaming
to let you stretch to me to the limit, is there a limit
to the infinity you place inside us? where you dwell, where we draw our words from
like ancient treasure from the depths of the sea
like secrets whispered to the oldest of oak trees
Silent Night
Hope is the quiet flame burning
I feel it still, underneath the layers of darkness
that have wrapped around me like a straitjacket
suffocating until not even a tear can escape
But my flame burns, and I know one day
It'll burn the darkness away
You see, the darkness was silent
When it knew it had no chance as He spoke those words
Let There Be Light.
I feel it still, underneath the layers of darkness
that have wrapped around me like a straitjacket
suffocating until not even a tear can escape
But my flame burns, and I know one day
It'll burn the darkness away
You see, the darkness was silent
When it knew it had no chance as He spoke those words
Let There Be Light.
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