A collaboration between Paul Callus & Carolyn Devonshire
Where were you when she disappeared?
Is the moment caught in your mind?
Were you nervous as the day neared,
or to its approach were you blind?
She took the lonely winding road
towards the hills in purple haze.
The weary sun took one last look
then cast away its fading rays.
Were you watching the sun go down?
Did you grasp the consequences?
Did you see sunset's halo crown;
did waning light stir your senses?
She walked ahead; not once looked back
nor did she pause or hesitate.
As shadows fell to twilight’s touch
she came at last to heaven’s gate.
Did you imagine her entry
to God's heavenly, lasting life?
Could you see the guarding sentry
as the joy in heaven was rife?
She left behind no next of kin,
no faithful fans or floodlit stage.
The only ones who mourned for her
were a few friends of ripened age.
If no one recalls her passage,
does that mean she did not exist?
When the reaper sends his carriage,
do our thoughts of loved ones desist?
More autumns came and winters too
remaining leaves withered and fell
since her soul rose into the blue.
Is there no more story to tell?
I thank Paul for joining me in this collaboration and apologize for taking so long to post it. As some of you know, my house flooded and I've been dealing with health issues as well.
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2016
A strange claim
Of a man of passion
Let the children come to me
For what man would refuse the smile
The innocence of a child
He parted his kindness
His love of all tribes
Animal and man, felt the kindness of his eyes
His tears grew this world
His voice made all of us listen
He made fisherman, philosophers
He made masons run free
He sang to ladies of the night
With the wine from wells of passion
Caliphs and Abu Nuwas soon followed
Love belongs to no one tribe
No sect or religion
It’s the flower that seed's travels the globe
Like feathers floating in the wind
When you see a child with no food
A woman with no smile
A man with no home
You make a balloon or funny face
You grow a rose
You build a hut
Trust in the kindness underneath
It will kiss you on your death bed
You shall rise to the heavens
You loved the universe
Notes: This is one poem that for sure can be peeled like an onion. First of all, I am working on a poem based on historical fact, and documents from the Vatican, that will serve no other purpose than to tell an age old story. Yes part of it takes place in current day Turkey.
Second, I have a friend who resides in Turkey, and we met over the internet, and over the years, have become friends. I know him to be kind, to all people and animals. We are simply friends that have shared stories, laughter, and hardships at times. Whether someone lives next door or half way around the world, true friendship and honor is hard to find. You can not give it or receive it. You can only both earn it over time.
No man is perfect, we are what we are, but when you see a world in turmoil, as we do these days, maybe this small event or moment carries weight. I myself am not so nice. So then I must say this, My friend Volkan is, not to me, but to countless people. A smile and kindness costs nothing, and the world needs more of this richness.
Everyone these days talks of how technology is ripping apart society and this may well be true, but this is a choice we all make, technology is merely a tool. One can also use it to build bridges and friendships.
Normally I would be shy to give such praise, however events have taught me that, its better to speak good words than be silent.
Thank you, for helping building a better world!
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016
tapping on my windows' pain—
white blanket in tow
Hurting enough, I paid him no mind
so he kept tap, tap, tapping
‘til cobweb-like cracks appeared:
a final, gentle tap
shatters my windows
My rainbow world
now smothered, pallid,
forced into boredom and slumber,
sunlight chased away
and I am never the same again…
Soul gets plunged deep in the cold
blinded by whiteness, numbed with simplicity
there is an eerie stillness,
almost as if no one dared to breathe,
even the barren trees refused to quiver
brittle dendrites seem to claw the sky
futile though, for they are frozen,
grasping at nothingness,
clouds stubborn and stoic,
brooding in silent grayness
…and then from within, a filigreed whisper escapes
palpable and brave~
it weaves its way through the branches,
gathering strength wherever it went
it beckons to the sky, which in turn
gives in and celebrates ~
letting dainty confetti fall
white, yet amazingly graceful
each flake falls softly on the ground—
a fashionable brocade
trees softly sway now,
and dance to a winter song
the sky weeps with happiness
for seeing a glimpse of life—
they catch a bit of evasive sunlight,
of which I thought I’ve lost
and give birth to miniature rainbows…
all this time, Sunlight was there
an audio of me reciting this poem
Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2011
I am the ring around Saturn
spinning words as particles of ice and dust
with the power to transcend
I am the original chosen to be right here right now
transmitting verbal frequencies
through speaking my thoughts into existence
I am the heir of omnipotence,
born with a direct connection to profound abundance
The one whose words will age, yet still have substance;
since there are no boundaries attached to my pen
I am constant energy
Translating personal experience into imagery
Vulnerable to tyranny,
yet i continue attempting to share some truth
through this abstract language of poetry
I am the core
I am that I am more
I am the Divine Presence that is the Source of my rewards
I am the green you get when you mix too much yellow with the blue
That shade of gold you get when the sun resides into darkness
and when it ascends in the dawn burning dew
I am the transition between the third and fourth dimension of time;
the love you feel when you realize how it feels
I am the poem that is abstractly direct
because I write beyond limits
absorbing frequencies from 3 to 8 hertz
through meditation for several minutes
I am the one bridging the gap between
the analog ascension and the direct connection to spirit
The one who is love
because I am a descendent of it
I am the rhythm that the wind blows
I am the beginning and the ending of stories told
about the universe and how miracles unfold
I hold the power to accept judgement from those who will do just that
Not knowing that I am them in the absolute reality of me
I am knowledge beyond measure because that is my right
So I continue meeting the different parts of me
when I meditate and write
Who am I?
I AM, THAT, I AM
Copyright © humble b | Year Posted 2012
Opened like a morning leaf
exposed beneath the moon,
Resting in the tentacles
of a clouded ink coccoon.
Wringing hands now rest at peace-
the solitude of night,
a lantern in the wilderness
the miracle of flight.
Dancing on the tabletops
or falling from a swing,
is noticing the networking
of every living thing.
Observation is the art
that shows a single frame,
experience will turn to stone
the given and the gained.
Copyright © Nykki Houtkooper | Year Posted 2005
I never knew following dreams could be this lonely,
But up on the hill, looking back, thank God I'm not the old me.
If the tears will fall, let them be;
I believe this is God's plan, follow your dreams.
Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013
Authored by Chuck Keys
It had no color,
Lacking shape, size and dimension.
It wasn't moving or breathing.
There was neither aroma nor taste, not here or there.
Touching was useless because it wasn't physical.
It was indistinct and limitless.
Multi-sensually and multi-psychologically
It wasn't here or there and it was.
With no distinction,
It looked like everything else,
Or it could not have looked like everything else.
It never made me feel good nor bad,
Nor happy nor sad
Nor quite nor trite.
In our world of joy and destroy, we sort and distort,
Looking more on the surface and less on the inside,
Ready to judge and be judged from outside in.
The "oneness" of mankind stretches beyond definitions and limits,
From outside to inside and from inside to outside.
We are one distinct and alike world of "oneness."
Differences exist for differences,
Therefore, differences don't exist.
Only "oneness" exists.
This poem is dedicated to Dr. Clayborne Carson and The Gandhi-King Community,
For Global Peace with Social Justice in a Sustainable Environment.
Copyright © Chuck Keys | Year Posted 2010
Christian Love frame
The only need for death to every exist
Was to slay the fictional self
And all the embellishments used to support it
Fear not, Love’s little flock
You will not be set to fly
And then be allowed to fall
To be strong in your Love
Is to inherit the power of God
That now lies dormant in your essence
For your possession of absolute truth
Is a point at which your Love and your reality
Both become one in God
Slaying your fictional self, being honorable
Is your first step toward your recovery
Of your conscious immortality
For what is sin but the force and mischief
Used to instill and empower
Your mentally invented lower realities
Is the ego’s assault against life
Love does not judge
For what is the mercy of Love
But that it repeats it’s lessons of life
Until they are learn by the mind
For Love already knows,
What life is yet to learn
Therefore learn from who you are
And teach your outer self
Love’s absolute truth
Love is your true reality, a constant source
Has no beginning or no end
The unlimited potential, quite essential
My prayer for 2010 is that;
These proceeding sayings
Become obsolete this year
In the face of your Love itself, Smile!
Stay in your Bibles, my little bibles
For Love is your title
Not your mind of idol!!
Copyright © john freeman | Year Posted 2010
through a tiny lens
held firmly with hands
eyes gaze in awe..
with a simple twist
colours explode harmoniously
the colours are stunning
so vivid, so alive
with truth as in life..
this ever changing vision
is but broken glass shards
not whole, not complete..
simple, plain, tiny pieces
they don't fit, they don't belong
different shades, different sizes..
fragmented, swirling on command
no direction,they stop; at one's touch
and through this seemingly disconnect..
therin lies their beauty
for these tiny glistening pieces
imperfect jewel tone shades, dance; together..
revealing the essence of life,
humanity and all who breathe
for they gloriously join; naturally..
to inspire joy, excitement, wonderment
the green piece could be a used wine bottle
tiny violet piece from a castaway vase..
regardless of their origin
these magnificant, illuminating pieces
unite as one and magically dance..
with truth as in life
beauty is as beauty does
fusing together, naturally, effortlessly..
broken shards now glistening jewels
the spirit of every man, woman and child
is part of this most magical creation..
for every size, shape and gorgeous hue
is us; in every race, age & size
coming together, to create, to inspire..
tunnel vision seamlessly vanishes
as eyes are opened; captivated
at the wonderment, joy and harmony of..
becoming one; beautifully and with faith..
Copyright © Lynn Marie | Year Posted 2006
You wake up in the morning to look in the mirror,
To say "This is me".
To Compare yourself to what you think you should be.
"How can this be?",
"Why did God do this to me?",
You put on some make-up or some acne-cream,
To cover the blemishes that others can see.
But it doesn't mater what others see,
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
And the beholder is me.
So stop annotating,
And start complimenting,
Not on what should be,
But on what is!
You were created in God's image,
To see who you really are,
In that mirror is not,
But a scientific creation from stardust,
Something that's way beyond us.
And what's inside is something so unique,
Because no one else has it,
You are the most amazing thing to walk on this Earth.
With the ability to wake up and show your worth.
So why wake up and talk negative?
When you could wake up and smile.
Why not be happy for a while?
Why try to please everyone else,
When all you have to do is be yourself?
People say "What matters is on the inside.",
And you say "But look at my outside.".
And I say there is no good side,
You as a whole is the creation,
There is no separation.
Each person with 46 chromosomes working in perfect symphony,
Destroying themselves with negativity.
You are beautiful because you are rare,
Because no one else can compare.
With your sense of humor to comprise,
Someone no one else can match.
Try to make it in a lab...
Try throw it down the hatch.
You compare yourself to everyone else,
When you are one of a kind.
Why can't you get that in your mind?
Diamonds aren't perfect so why should you be?
Beauty is not symmetry.
Look in the mirror and what do you see?
The beauty that you are...
This is me...
Copyright © David Neuman | Year Posted 2014
I do not know?
are like my thoughts
falling down into my mind
sending goose bumps down
Their cool aftermath
cleanses me of my thoughts
of fear and uncertainty
about what tomorrows
pain may bring
They make me feel,
wet with creativity
drenched in my optimistic
raindrops, my thoughts
leave paths of pleasurable
distress, and hope of success
which road, less traveled
may be the best
Forget an umbrella
when these raindrops
arrive, I walk outside
arms open wide
Ready to Receive
the mind storm may bring
because raindrops are
as my thoughts, falling
down into my mind
sending shivers down
My brain, yearns
for the rain, to wash away
the pain, tomorrows worry
One special drop
could speed up life's clock
to the time
I can handle my own
and not dwell inside my controllers
For raindrops are,
like my thoughts
falling down into my mind
sending goose bumps
down my spine
Copyright © Heather Hill | Year Posted 2010
You are the wild flower in my palm
With no stem to keep you anchored to this covetous earth
You are the fragile thing I dare not cup,
As your petals whittle away under the wind
And flit unfettered in the air;
Exaggerated fear leaves my fingers numb
Hungry need leaves my fingers twitching
And my hand is paralyzed by turmoil
As every breath of wind takes another petal from me
And brings to my lungs, my chest and my heart
An overwhelming scent of need-
You are the wild beauty in my palm
And I dare not hold you to my chest
For I fear to crush you
To know first hand
That caged beauty, is beauty no more.
Copyright © Samir Georges | Year Posted 2011
Many times the ocean
has saved Nippon, pearl of the sea,
an oceanic symbiosis a speck in a fecund see.
The dikes of man such miniscule plans to hold back the tide.
The throngs, each and all crawl across the thin skin of volcanic soil
or rise with in the hump-backed alps of remnant cones.
Yet, the sea rises to reclaim its own
scour the pallet of man, refine, burnish melt, reform.
With pen and sword kanji drawn, samurai born
with knife and bone entrails torn, honor tested
tested by the hand of He,
tested and found worthy.
The children of the Divine Wind
rise above the tsunami, as one, unbowed.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2011
If the spirit moves me I will speak
I will share words
that no-one wants to hear
I will speak them
I will speak them loud and clear
If the spirit moves me
If the spirit moves me I will see
I will see Beauty
that no-one else can see
I will see it far and near
around me and in all things
If the spirit moves me
If the spirit moves me I will hear
I will hear things
no-one else can hear
I will hear the universe
speaking to me and I will hear
If the spirit moves me
If the spirit moves me
I will feel
I will feel the pain of others
I will feel their happiness too
I will be able to empathize
If the spirit moves me
If the spirit moves me
I will taste joy and laughter
I will live my life in peace
I will find love
I will live on in the ever-after
If the spirit moves me
© Christine A Kysely All Rights Reserved
(October 25, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin USA)
Copyright © christine a kysely | Year Posted 2011
When young I heard the glass was either ½ empty or ½ full
But with time I learned… to believe either one makes you a fool
My health made me battle from the almost empty place
But I came to see that… your life is not a glass or a race
I always worked to fill my cup to the ½ full point… and beyond
To compare my life to others always made the pessimist spawn
Optimist or pessimist is more than some kind of… point of view
They are each an integral part of what makes you… you
The pessimist is a part of everyone’s make up… that can make us give up
The optimist is an acquired trait… that has to be constantly built upon
Fight the pessimist who can bring you nothing but sadness and despair
Nurture the optimist that gives you the chance… to do and go anywhere
The optimist can give you self-respect and the chance to do great things
It can make your heart and your soul soar… and to grow great wings
It’s a way of life that can add to your existence and also others
Which way of life, you cultivate, says how much, you’ll see of life’s wonders
You see: Your cup is never ½ empty or ever ½ full… Life is a work in progress
So never give up… Look for ways, in this world, to bless
And why let anything stop you? It is a hard fight, to some times win...
But will be very gratifying… if you keep trying… until the end.
Written by Carol Eastman 11-7-2015
Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2015
Frail humans we are and mistakes are made,
but there will be a time to pay
for pain inflicted on others.
Run swiftly from dark clouds hovering above,
baggage like an albatross around our necks --
cast it aside.
Commit to offering kind words,
compassion to all,
bestowing brotherly love.
Make amends when possible
for harmful acts, even negative thoughts,
and promote harmony.
When we stand at heaven’s gate,
we’ll not be asked about material possessions,
but how much love we gave.
The prince and the pauper
will be judged as equals
when the tab comes due.
*Entry for Paula’s “How Due You Dew” contest
Written September 8, 2011
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011
If you are lonely watch the birds
In their freedom of flight--
Feel the warmth of the sun
Kiss your cheeks and smile
Visit the shore and listen to
The waves sing sweet songs
Close your eyes and smell the
Fragrant flowers of spring
Transport yourself through
Time’s great abyss
In memories of streams that
Flow with a youthful glow. . .
Dive in pools of aqua waters
Through your mind’s eye
Delight in the breezes playful
Mood as the trees sway in tune
Listen to the purr of a
Contented cat in your lap
Write a letter to yourself
And promise to answer. . .
Better yet write a poem,
One that will linger long
In someone’s lonely mind.
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2010
(Message of hope dedicated to all those that have been through such an excruciating experience.)
When you are present, Time immobile
Each second an eternity of intolerable
At such moments,
We implore Time to advance,
To accelerate his pace
To hurry up
The next second to come
The next minute
The next hour
The next day
The pain to decrease
Our agony to lessen
And us to be liberated from distress
From our affliction and from
But Time – a sadist- unmoved stays
Instead of picking up speed he
Is dragging his leaden feet, enjoying thus himself with
Our perpetual torture,
Disappointed by Time's unhurried stance,
Absorbed by his immobility,
Let ourselves sink deeper and deeper into our hopelessness,
Till we reach the deepest point of
A place void of all thoughts,
Of absolute silence and of intense
We wish to shout
No voice is possible to be heard
No-one is there to listen to our call of distress
In the darkest hour of solitude,
At the culminating point of desolation,
When we thought all is lost, we realize to our surprise, that
We are not alone,
WE WERE NEVER ALONE!
A tenant is there with us,
A tenant, beyond the limits of ourselves,
Of our understanding,
Of our awareness,
A tenant who looks at us with affection
With compassion and most of all
Yes, it is HIM
The ONE and ONLY
HE who was there before us
Will be here into eternity
After we are gone: GOD HIMSELF!
We look at His Holy visage and we discern an
Apologetic expression for
Having put us through this tribulation so as to be able to make
HIS presence to us known!
He had tried before to approach us on
During the period of our good fortune,
Of our successes and of our achievements
We had ignored HIS calls at that time,
You see, we didn’t need any help then
We thought everything was our doing
Under our firm control
That we were INVINCIBLE!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
13 JUNE 2013
Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2013
I need you to be stronger
I need you to never be afraid
swallow your pride,and your flight will be softer
tell her you love her,even if it hurts
Grab onto your dream and live it
Do not be afraid of the sun's divinity
Be better,love more, hold on.
Enjoy every stop of the ride.
For when the train finally stops...we die
Until we witness the angels dance after final day...
Dear Me, hide your fears away
Copyright © Winter Wallace | Year Posted 2009
To all you great poets that drift free from the hoards
I want you to feel the love I've written in these words
My heart reaches out to you like a hand in the storm
Pulling you from the coldness,trying to keep you warm
My words speak with thunder and lightning from above
They are sent to you directly from our God with love
Your words are read by many, some may be with lost souls
Roaming with an emptiness causing them to fall deeper into holes
But with the love from your hearts that flows free from your pens
You reach out to those falling into darkness, and raise them once again
Your pathways will be forever lit with a trail of loves light
With all the souls that you have reached in this living life
Copyright © Dan Kearley | Year Posted 2012
What is this unseen power
It changes all that exists into dust
It shapes our lives and our landscapes
It sculpts and changes us.
What is this unseen power
That rules the world of men
That heals and teaches and equalizes
That triumphs again and again?
Time is that great master
Of power and wisdom and grace
Which by doing nothing but passing
Leaves its mark on every place.
Time...yes you can waste it,
But be aware when you do
Time will return the favor my friend
And eventually start wasting you.
Copyright © Melanie McLaughlin Reed | Year Posted 2007
When all of youth flees
and even the whitest eye reddens, rheums,
words, fair words, dispel the gloom.
When hands are mapped with age and knurled,
still, they transform the page, the eye, the cage,
for where words flow, the mind goes,
to the pristine smiles and
the smooth curves which once were
yours, your cheek, your neck, your hip.
Deny me anything but the word
for it’s magic will soon be all that remains
of fleeting youth.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2009
We have been around for thousands of years
Reading our words for kings and queens
and a few people who gathered just to hear us talk.
We lived on the copper coins they could afford
and traveled through the lands writing what
we saw, dreams and thoughts.
Our words were put to music and made immortal
Others were acted on the stage making
people laugh and cry.
Some words changed the way people thought
and ended hatred between people who
should not feel hate.
People died because they did not realize what
our words could do
Many times a love bogged in fear was loosed
because of a few words we wrote.
God only knows how many children our words
have brought smiles to and how many starting
thinking because of what we wrote.
Why do we do it?
Not to end wars or hatred
Not for the lovers who found each other because of us
Not even for the copper coins people throw
We do it because we love words
We do it to share our feelings
and we do it so that someday maybe someone will read
our thoughts, dreams and words and they will be
remembered long after we are gone.
Copyright © R. e. taylor | Year Posted 2007
Quote 2: "Observe the wonders as they occur around you.
Don't claim them. Feel the artistry moving through and be silent. ~Rumi
Old pages torn from ancient trees
with sage remarks upon the breeze
break silence, one by one
Catch them, hold them, before they flee
and listen to the past, unseen
for strong roots to lean on
For Nette's Contest: Rimee couee:
By Carrie Richards 4/20/12
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2012
I do not know?
What if age was determined
By the amount of life experiences you had
Would you be an old timer, seasoned
Or a young naïve lad?
Would you change the way you lived
Or would you be satisfied?
Would changes to your life be massive,
Or would you seek a priest to confide?
I wonder why we don't live more
Not knowing when the curtain falls
Instead we tread on egg-shell floors
As if we plan when the bell tolls..
Copyright © Master Jones | Year Posted 2012
‘The Power Of A Poet’ 32nd Senryu
Look How Devoted
The Power of A Poet
See How Words Spoke It
This Poem is My Tribute to:
Carolyn Devonshire (The Dove)
and James (The Highlander) Fraser
for your Powerful collaboration on:
Mother Nature's Revenge
It Was Truly Awesome
Copyright © MoonBee Canady | Year Posted 2009
By committing to nothing, one retains infinite options.
I have hid inside these words for moons and seasons and New Year’s toasts.
The lone wolf roams fertile pastures unfettered.
The thrill of the hunt.
An empty bed is the hope of a new body’s sleeping curve.
Tomorrow becomes yesterday.
“The mystery of mysteries is the gateway to marvels.”
I stopped looking long ago.
The faces have blurred into a montage of emptiness.
Come and go; came and went.
I never bothered much to be bothered.
There aren’t many memories
And I am thankful for that.
Wet fingers and licked lips’
Blood on my hands.
The years run on like a favorite sitcom gone bad.
It all should have been retired years ago.
It is easier to stay afloat and roam the big waters alone
Than set up camp on an island and face a face.
Freedom is all that you cannot commit to
And who surrenders to nothing is he who lives in frigid shadows of fear.
Maybe I have never truly known warmth.
I walk the streets like a war-worn shoulder.
A little cold, a little distant, a little too silent.
The words I have are recycled fragments of someone else’s life.
I don’t offer much.
Can you read my concrete stare?
I have an entire universe hiding in my back pocket
But I’m scared to show you.
It’s been so long since I groped or even fondled my own life.
I’m not sure what I do or don’t have to offer.
I just keep making bets and upping the ante.
Copyright © Robert Woolridge | Year Posted 2005
Erase a word
Mundane and wrought
Of indifferent thought
Pluck a phrase
Wild and untamed
Of random flame
Sing a verse
Naked and free
Of crashing seas
Tell a tale
Endearing and true
Of life’s muse
Ask a heartbeat
Women and men
100 shards of pen
Copyright © Xavier Keough | Year Posted 2005
Marching down life’s highway, my feet became very sore
I then came upon a sign that read “Heaven’s Grocery Store”
When I got closer the doors swung open wide
Next thing I knew I was standing there inside
I saw a flock of angels positioned everywhere
They handed me a basket and said, “Child shop with care.”
Everything a human required was in that grocery store
With many commodities to carry, you could always come back for more
First I acquired some Patience; Love was in that same row
Further down was Understanding, you require that everywhere you go
I grabbed a box of Wisdom and Faith, a bag or two
And obtained Charity of course but more than just a few
And then reached for Courage to help me run this wicked race
My basket was almost full but remembered some loving Grace
I then chose Salvation for it was advertised as free
I tried to collect enough of that for both you and me
Then I started to the counter to pay my grocery bill
For I thought I had everything to do the Master’s will
As I went up the aisle, I saw Prayer and proceeded put that in
For I knew when I stepped outside I was bound to encounter sin
Peace and Joy were plentiful, the last thing on that shelf
Song and Praise were hanging near so I just helped myself
Then I asked an angel, “Now how much do I owe?”
She smiled and said, “Just take them wherever you may go.”
Again I asked, “No really, how much do I owe?”
“My child,” she said, “God paid your bill a long time ago.”
Copyright © Adam Kirkhoff | Year Posted 2010
I am the hypocritical Christian.
I say I follow Christ,
But I'm still consumed by my demons.
I go to church on Sunday,
But I refuse to invite someone back.
I want to serve on mission,
But I'm too afraid to act.
They think I read The Bible,
But I just fall asleep in it.
They think I'm positivity and smiles,
But underneath I'm death and addictions.
They think I'm clean and pure,
But I'm broken and mistaken.
I say I'm not worthy of His love,
But Jesus will never let me be forsaken.
I pray long prayers,
But inside they're empty repetition.
It might look as if my faith is strong,
But my core is too easily shaken.
I say the things I'm supposed to say,
But don't follow His actions or obey.
I speak the truth the church wants to hear,
But deep inside on matters I don't know what to believe.
I walk in shame as if I'm not good enough
To be loved by God and saved through Christ,
But there is nothing I could ever do to earn His peace;
It's a free gift.
Now forgiven, changed, and released.
Thank You God,
Thank You Jesus,
Thank You Holy Spirit!
In Jesus' Holy Name,
Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013