Words

The soul is weak from lack of food
And will not last the day
Unless the Maker speaks a word
And then the soul will say.

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Daughter of Another god

Words can touch
Where hands can’t go
Do you ever dream of Jesus?

A light falls swift
and warms a heart
but do you think He’s dead?

Two minds can be
resting on
the very same page as one another.

Yet without God
to bind two souls
What is there to love but skydiving with no chute?

Some things feel great
that tear the soul
and only later do we feel the crash.

I want to connect
Just as you
But I know that love requires something.

I am not
without my God
and this is who I am.

Funny quips and jokes aside
There must needs be a like mind in this
if love were ever to blossom.

And words with power leave their mark
Let us be so honest now
With ourselves about ourselves.

Not Enough

I think sometimes
When I am “being real”
that I am not that helpful
and I tell myself,
“at least you are being honest…”
as if that made it ok
to say this or that
and to write the things I write–
you know,
“the real stuff.”

I think sometimes
when I am doing just what I want
and it is so bad
for everyone
that I tell myself,
“you have to start where you are,
not where you wish you were…”
and the worst part about that advice
is that it is true
but still,
I represent people
and things
badly.

I think sometimes
when I have a burst of inspiration
I don’t think about what it will do
or I choose to lie to myself
and bottle it up
and I never find a balance.
But there has to be
a balance.

I know that words have power
and that lying to yourself is dangerous
and that communicating is important,
but that is all I know,
and it is not enough.

Mere

“Mere anarchy…”
do you remember words like that?
rolled in stone by dead bards gone
many meanings piled high
as we struggle just to grasp
Do we wonder ever enough,
breaking thoughts with syllables?
Are we enchanted still
by such spells cast long ago?

Order breathed like moving beasts
giving frame to fears and hopes
as we reach to make a home
for the words that pass us by…

I Love To Hear You Speak

I know I will dream of you
I do not know where it will take me
I know that deep hot desires
once aroused
take on a life
a life of their own.
I know I will think of you
All of you
Every last drop of sweat
and every sweet scent
And some not so sweet
I know I will remember you
Remember that night
And long for it again
For better or for worse
The lost light awakened
And though it found itself in battle
It remembered it was alive.
I will cling to the light
When I should
And when I shouldn’t
I love to not feel dead.
I love to dream of love.
I love the pull of your words.
Speak to me again in the night
Set my heart on fire
Make me dream of hope
With all your hot desire.
I do not know to say the things
The things that you might wish to hear
But I know when your words come home
They wake me from my slumber dear.

Pearls and Swine

It’s funny the things that we give up
Give up to our enemies
Give up to those who hate us
Often we don’t think we’ve lost
anything of value
anything at all
and so we think we’re being…
Well I’m not sure what we think.

We give up words
As if they have no power
As if they have no value
As if they do not matter.
We agree to faulty definitions
And then attack
With our enemies
(now our “friends”)
The straw man they created
And we supported.

We give up words
And think we have lost nothing
Words like
Man,
Woman,
and religion.

We attack our own with no cause
To make a point
A point that is right
And good
But we give up our treasures
We give them up
We give up our words
And with it a piece of us

We say that because
Jesus
Hated hypocrites
And attacked religious leaders
For their hypocrisy
That He hated religion
And that religion must be
a problem
But the heart of man
Is the problem
Not religion.

We say that a man
is many things
that he is not
And we change it
every year
seemingly to move with
some cultural tide
that drags itself
down to death
but what it means
to be a man,
or a woman
has never changed
and words are lost
as we give in
as we give up

This is not us being clever
This is not us being astute
This is not us being faithful.

Pure religion is religion
Widows,
Orphans,
Distress

Do not give up your treasure
Seeking to be closer
to God
When God Himself
Gave your fathers that very treasure

Words have meaning
Words have power
Be suspicious of yourself
Whenever you depart
From what was handed down
By trust-worthy men.