“Writer’s block is the purgatory I find somewhere between the numb of happy and sad.”
The seemingly spotless mind,
Defiled,
Unclean,
Spotted.
The mind,
She wanders
Every few seconds
Riddled with parasites,
Corrupt by expectation.
Wander.
Stained with worry,
Pierced by grief.
Wander.
She will wander to impurity
Slowly cracking;
Broken.
The shattered mind
At the point of no return,
So when she wanders,
Let her.
Let her wander to a place of wonder,
To a place of curiosity,
To a place where she is holding to
Everlasting virginity.
The now spotless mind,
She dances in majestic thought,
She sleeps in sweet memory,
She dreams in prosperity.
She wanders,
But now this wandering is
Wonder-filled;
Wonderful,
Perfect in imperfection,
Spotless.
I have been having a hard time trying to figure out what to blog, so there is a piece that came from me not being able to think clear enough to get words down, and here are a few small things God has been teaching me…
The truth does not need my help.
Even if I’m right, I am always wrong if I never consider the fact that I could be mistaken.
My prayers matter.
God is a mystery that is meant to be sought, but not fully understood (a God that can fit into my three pound brain is not a God worth worshipping).
No fallacies cease to be fallacies simply because they have become fashions.
I must necessarily be crooked if I feel the need to justify myself.
There is a difference between silence and patience (a humble tongue does not mean a humble heart).
Thanks for reading!
