Glory Bridge Do you see me? Can you feel me? Don't despair I am always here. Crafted from your tears I will appear to colour your world when the end seems near. Do not look to me to light your way. For I bring life and promise to rainy days - as sure as an olive branch. To reach you I have to bend separate and come back together again. The light does come through but this is what is true: I must come to chase away the grey keep hopelessness at bay and bring a promise your way. I will carry you across the byways all the highways, through each maze. woven into each colour is a gift of grace. You shall never be alone.
Tag: poetry is life
What is Your Motive?
What is Your Motive? I see you but are you real? You smile but it's crooked. The light is not in your eyes. All that you do is a lie. You come as a friend to see what you can get you are not content to be in the stands, destructive and wicked plans salute you on command. You give me roses littered with thorns. Be who you are: show me what you can do.
Foreigner in a Weary Land
Foreigner in a Weary Land I am a foreigner, here on this dirt. I am but a stranger allowed to wander in the desert. among those who are no greater but no less. Love me for what I do not possess no fine things to dazzle and oppress. I misguided left my father's house and have experienced many a droughts. But here I am a stranger still trying to find out what is God's will. You all are mine and I am yours from this time till forever more. Here, I sit upon a rock, and dream and shift seemingly tossed about to drift. Yet all along as I go and come I never forget whence I am from, and to whom I belong.
Hope
Hope Hope lingers, expectantly. Cleaving valiantly, to the promise of cleansing rains. It moves gingerly, through the landmines of our minds. It rides the wave, of the sewage built up over the years. The Coming is soon, like the rising sun after the moon a harvest after the monsoon. Hope gives birth to redemption, to change the perception of the world's dire despair. Now it shines, to wakeup the weary somnambulist. When it falls like Manna, catch it. And plant it in your garden.
Where Your Mind Go
Where You Mind Go Just remember this my friend where your mind go your body will follow. A man can see before he must be. But friend what is your imagination? Do you see yourself as great or small? then surely you will fall for the lie that kills that allows the truth to be born still unless you use your will to meet The King and stand on that hill fully planted upon solid Rock.
Wishy-Washy
Wishy-Washy You have been called. What will you do? Will you melt away like snow or dry up with the dew? See they are all just looking at you to make a move. No, standing still this will not do. Do you hear? You are being called tell me will you allow fear, a growing dread and dispair to paralyse you or worse, cause you to disappear on the ignoble frontier. Now you must decide: Will you fold ineffectually insipid, Or rise sure-footed and committed?
Don’t Quit
Don't Quit Just because the sun did not shine on you today. Just becausethe rain came and washed away your way. Just because you feel the fear stealing over you. Just because your feet are worn walking in weary shoes. Don't quit don't give in to the voice that tries to imprison you from within.
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