PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

it's these spaces that leave me hanging on the line

my mind, blended slightly with the heart, so it keeps thinking on

in riddles and murmurs and gallons of questions

from outer space from a different kind

havent i told you, i love your friendships

it means so much i wish i could comprehend all its worth

but what we fail to concieve we best see through the Lord

and life is just a roaming around, delaying of sound

confusion of words, voices not heard

but so it only seems that way, through our feeble minds

and why do we try to make sense of gravity and time;

when its all aligned under the power of the great Divine

i wonder what is it worth to sit by the ocean and think of our sins

being cast into the sea, so deep that you cannot reach

no one, not even divers, not even whales, not even particles could touch it

and we think its still there, lying at the bottom of the sea

but really, its vanished once it hit the ground of the ocean floor

kind of like when we swallow and it travels down; the lump in our throat

our stomaches they choke from digestion

and we return it to the ground where it once was; gone

i think of grace and its state

how much more i know grace than in my younger days

its meaning blooming every moment

when i mess up or give up

when i sin and ask for forgiveness and then i sin again

without knowing it; cycling

its crazy but you can never get any better

but Jesus is the one who shines through us

our dirty clothes, dirty minds, dirty hearts

He cleans then off when we surrender our moments of pleasure

to be His tool to shine like a light on a hill for all to see

its not even about me, I am merely another voice singing in a chorus of people

who love the Lord and we have nothing more to do, but sing which entails everything

here and in heaven

and i tend to think what is in it for us, .....but isnt Jesus enough?

with all of His love and saving us from death in hell?

of course, we are spoiled rotten, flesh wants more ,expects more

push it back down, Lord, Spirit move.

i love letters that speak from far distances

because they always sound better from far away

sweeter sounding than the ground of May

its words that carry what you can mold into your heart and mind

wishful thinking of some sort of kind

but i love the feeling it gives when we think of how love lives

in the air and in the signals from places far from us

because we want something we can't reach to sweep us off our feet

but does that makes sense? it does because we dream

to help subside reality....or what we think to be reality

but reality is beautiful. you see the bad so you can pull out the good

without bad how could we know good? what would it be called?

we need bad here to know how good really is, sounds weird, but....almost better

its a evil and a hero comes like in the stories we hear

its right where we are standing, so look at the bad around and pull good out

reality is falling, catch it with love.

they will speak evil of your good, it amazes me how it happens

with friends you have had for years that suddenly think you snapped

they react and randomly your are attacked, but you dont fight back

yet things you've said get brought in even when your life was never different

but in their head it was bent

you watch them slip away into the grave and all your mistakes

are turned into blames, but you cry when you think or you thought they were there

in the same heart and mind of Father time

and the only thing you are able to do it pray for their life

even though at times you want to rewind and remind

say a word or two to make sure it's fine

but you have to let go and give them to the hands of God

and if it be His will they will take thought to past time

and remember not you, but His love through your use

its the battles we chose, to fight or abuse

fight for love

and isnt it crazy how i makeup memories

or place myself in the car passing me by on the way to work

wish for some odd reason i was them, but only for a second

or seeing couples get married or engaged like flowers in a field

and i feel im just in the way, a weed, a clump of dirt

but that tis of no importance when I look at the soverignty of our God

our lives, more than how we feel

but we do this to ourselves, we can change the attitude we hold

or rather most of us just push it back into our minds

but it still exsits, for all of time

and sighs become a common solitude

and we rest in our rooms, on our beds

our minds relax and we cease to exsit there

we just lay with our eyes closed

we then at the time dont even realize our breath

we just breathe and dream as a calming symphony

melodies, playing softly until the morning come

and we wake up, ready to face the rain

but it seems our sleep was never there

but we shrug it off and go our way

its life, its love, its everyday