this is the climb

and when i want to give up,

i think of where i want to be.

i visualize victory and joy and peace

and

take a breath.

i want to be better.

i want more than this.

so i continue to amad,

and stand firm and still.

i’m not giving up this time,

no, not until i see the finish line.

 

 

Unbelievable

unbelievable

how much i have changed.

my covers are clean and sparkle

under the bright lights shining down on me.

and i smile when i go off to sleep

because i know in the morning who i will meet,

so i grab hold of life and air

and roll off the bed with effortless grace.

so much grace,

draped down on me but held light and tender on my shoulders.

what was dirty

and mucky

and horrible

and stunk,

is now white as snow.

white as snow.

nowhere to hide because daybreak is no longer a curtain

and there is no theater or seats or dreadful laughter.

night is light and no longer is there a struggle with

hands to my throat

and grave whispers in my ear.

it is unbelievable

how i have changed,

those voices have come to adore me.

 

 

My God

My God.

You have seen this flesh through.

When it consumed me,

When it bled alongside you on the cross,

In your arms, I was wrapped,

Tucked away until I was complete,

And plucked from the edge of

Death.

I almost plummeted but,

You gave me wings,

So now I soar and I’m whole,

And it’s just because of you,

My God.

Poem Inspired By Inaugaration Day: “In spite of it all;” 

Cries for help 

Are muffled by the hands 

Of those that 

Sit on the titling and vulnerable axis of the earth.

And they only

Bend down,

Arms outstretched in selfish ambition,

To collect the shiny, useless things they crave and devour.

Possessive;

Take what’s yours to take.

The people will suffer but,

Oh,

If you were to spend a day, week–

God forbid! A month…

In their bottomless, worn out shoes,

You would crumble.

Because you are made of straw.

The dirt of this earth, the essence of essential and the basis of our foundation,

Stack them all real high,

Apply some pressure,

And you get steel and brick,

Strong enough to weigh down that paper house of yours.

Shut them up,

But listen closely

To the chains snapping and falling, quite surely,

To the ground.

In spite of it all; watch them fall. 

The Runaway Clay

I lied to you because the moment was right.

I said I would give you every bit and piece of myself, but the truth is,

I’m storing some in my soul just in case you get frusterated with the puzzle.

I’m sorry for being a wanderer. And a doubter. And a confused little child. 

I mimick the road I see instead of the destination of glory.

It’s a habit I’m trying to break,

Along with all the other chains.

But I guess that’s my problem.

I take my problems into my own hands and try to stitch things together with a makeshift sewing mechine and clumsy fingers. 

My clammy palms always cause me to slip up and nearly mess up the masterpiece… 

I have learned to run back into my arms when the unknown is a bit of a jump. 

But,

I am the clay.

I need to learn to be still as I am being molded. 

Seven Times Seventy, I Still Rise. 

Again

I will rise

Though the target is

Cut into my back

And my strength seems to be

Dwindling…

And the thorns in my side

Have come alive

And the dark days

Have come back to devour

I keep moving to the beat of

Gods love

I keep marching on

Pressing on

To claim what’s rightfully mine

Because my father sits on a throne

And so I am heir to a king,

The king. 

The fall comes at a price

That he has paid

Again

And again

Times seven,

I rise.

This end has to be a good one,

This journey has to greet the heavens

I have to win

You see,

I have been set up for victory.

Though the demons know where to dig their nails into,

My father knows where to heal, where to patch up, where to strengthen

So you see,

He is unstoppable,

Therefore,

So am I.