Easter
They were forgiven
for what they did not know they did
Yet unlike those men
I am aware He bled
My inner being convicted
by the things He said
Knowing the truth
that Jesus rose from the dead
Still down wrong pathways
I continue to be led
Instead of reading the Good Book
my mind with preoccupation is fed
Instead of praying
all day and before bed
With insignificant thoughts my mind is wed
Past present and future
can’t be escaped, trapped in my own head
You serve me Holy wine
and with believers let me break bread
Life is just my piece of the pie
I get just one slice
sure at times it’s nice
Other times it’s a fake paradise
I ask others for their advice
how do they resist
the allure of things that entice
Fast cars women or dice
are they men without vice
Do they think clearly once
when I’m confused each time
more than twice
For many mistakes I’ve paid a price
Will Jesus thaw through my conflict
releasing this heart
That feels encased in ice?
I look at my son
blessed by my wife his mother
Giving thanks for both
to my Heavenly Father
Still why oh why do I fight with my brother
Relationships are so complicated
sometime I wonder “should I even bother”
Deep seeded feelings of anger dishonour
I pray “Jesus please take my weakness
You alone can make me stronger
Shape me like clay
for You are the Potter
Lead me on the path
of your sons and daughters.”
Still my heart grows weaker
maybe even harder
For I live in the fear
God has forsaken me
Am I meant to be
a branch on His tree
I long to clearly see
To have Him fill all the parts
that feel empty
deep down inside of me
Will Jesus protect me from myself
I am my most considerable enemy
Is the wise dummy poet a priority
What words will He speak into me
Can I read between the lines
words written to set me free
or are my answers lost to history
a pretend to be happy misery
an isolated kinda cold conspiracy
Only Jesus can reveal to me
who He made me to be
Jesus knows my inner thirst
I long to make Him first
Yet so many times
the choices I make are the worst
As I surrender to Jesus
I feel the transformation
Like a dam repentant eyes burst
I know I am God’s forgiven child
no longer cursed
My thankfulness real
no longer rehearsed
Jesus satiating this inner thirst
with His Love I am nursed
baptized and immersed
What I lack Jesus finishes
I’m blessed by putting God first!
For Chantelle Anne Cooke’s “Rising of The Son” Poetry Contest.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2018
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