Was going through some old e-mails and found these couple of poems I wrote. Part 1 was from 2011, the hardest year of my life. Part 2 was from last year, 2012. Praise God for Part 2. I believe the Race is Part 3.
part 1 (written June, 2011)
it’s easy to be content when the rent is paid
when the streets are laid with opportunity and fortune.
when love is clear, it’s easy to hear the songs that the universe is playing-
the music that brings our neighbors to sing and come back to you.
but for me, you see, that’s not true.
i can’t hear the songs, i can’ hear the rhymes
over the sound of the wrongs and the sound of the crimes.
will i do time in a cell of hell, convicted on the spot
where i finally fell?
will you reach out to me or not?
will i have the strength to reach back through the pain and the crap
or will i sink in the sand unable to grasp your hand
this anger is not righteous, but it’s real.
how i feel is not a joke,
though it comes and it goes like a puff of smoke from a cigarette filled with poison and tar
that i choose to inhale to forget who you are.
to forget what you say about who i am,
about your plan that has me carved in the palm of your hand.
i grasp what you say with my mind, but my heart is still trailing behind.
tired from this race, it can’t keep up with the pace of this life
bombarded with strife and pain,
where gain is loss and loss is gain.
in vain i try to trust,
with machinery forged in rust.
must i be stuck in this prison of self,
unable to reach the blessings sitting on the shelf?
am i doomed to a life with this bitter narrow view?
did you not die for me, too?
i am ready for the next part of this story.
the part where where i give you the glory.
where we meet and defeat this titan that keeps me from seeing
this story you’re writing on my heart,
that tears me apart, and keeps me from seeing your light in the dark.
we’ll tear down these walls that were built,
some before i was born and some after by guilt and fear and shame
to protect me from love and protect me from pain.
these walls that have become my friends,
knowing my secrets and letting me pretend to be alive when i’m not really living,
keeping me from feeling, but also keeping me from forgiving.
i’m ready for that day, hoping it’s near.
i’m still stuck, rooted to the spot in fear,
knowing you can do it, yet alarmed you will not
choose to heal these bruises because of how i feel.
you are real, you are truth,
whatever i call you and whatever the proof
my life has dealt, whatever i have felt,
you are there.
you are near.
you are here.
give me new eyes to see that i am with you and you are with me
and together we can go out and shout loud enough to break down other walls
and heed the calls of others stuck in the muck and stuck in the mire,
hearts burning with the fire of pain and despair
instead of burning with the the love and the hope that comes with knowing you are there.
so, please, pull me out of this pit of self pityand deliver me to the city of hope
where i can look back at the things in my life that weren’t pretty
and know that you were the one weeping and keeping my heart from exploding.
that you were the one protecting, not rejecting,
and keeping the crimes against me from infecting my heart or my ears so bad that i couldn’t hear
when you called so many years ago.
that you are the one who has redeemed my woe
and produced with it a weapon of steel,
that i have made useless because of how i feel.
help me to see what i know with my mind, with the eyes of my heart.
give me a new start, connected only to you
so that i can reach many and turn my few into plenty.
i’m ready to be met in this terrible place.
i’m down on my face, stuck in the pit,
reaching out my hand.
please take it.
part 2 (Written April, 2012)
Despite me you have restored me
You have poured into me this spring of life
That wets my tongue parched by the dry heat of the world,
So that I can sing your praises
Trapped in a chain of lies disguised by reason
I ran away from your plan
Away from your hand that had committed treason against my logic
Whispers of the enemy grew louder
And I cradled them for comfort
In my arms they burned me,
They turned me into an enemy of myself
Wearing the armor of worthless of victim of hopeless and of hell.
In my self righteous rage I called out to you from my cage of fire
And you answered.
Protected and covered in your blood
you dragged me through the part of hell that was hot enough to melt away the chain around my heart
The chain that was tearing me apart, causing my soul to sputter and choke
And In your arms we left that terrible place
On our skin not even a trace of smoke lingers
My sin, once again, crossed out by the one that the cross tells about
You broke into my heart to get me out of the pit
bit by bit you’re still tearing down walls,
preparing me to heed the calls of others
still stuck in the muck and stuck in the mire,
hearts burning with the fire of pain and dispair
instead of burning with the love and hope that comes from knowing you are there
You have used the flames of the enemy to melt the chains of the chosen
The eyes of my heart, once frozen in an eternal winter,
have been warmed and melted into spring.
Finally it is learning to sing the song of glory
for the one who has transformed my story of pain
into a weapon that can take down giants.
Though I stumble and falter through each day
Your way is clear to me now, even in the shadow of death.
Where there once was a chain constricting the flow of your blood to my heart,
there is now only air.
For the chain, like death, has been defeated.
It is not there.
