Daily,
New hopes are born,
Old hopes rooted—or uprooted.
Time keeps moving,
The world is noisy,
Everything calls loudly-
Except His presence.

We are more than flesh,
We are spirit—
Like devices thirsting for power,
So our souls thirst for Him.
Electricity fuels machines,
But the Holy Spirit fuels men.

Many are alive,
Yet already dead,
Walking ghosts,
Dim lights
Extinguished by the slightest breeze.

But those who dwell in Christ—
Ah, from afar their fragrance calls!
Their peace is deep,
Their faith is envious,
Their joy a hymn to behold.

Stepping in,
They bring His presence with them.
To some, He is reality;
To others, an abomination.
To few, a visited place;
But to His own,
He is home.

Sweet as honey,
Comforting as rest,
An unexplainable power
Draws them deeper, deeper still.
He knows His own.
He cares for His beloved.

A thousand words
Would still fall short—
For the war in you
Is wordless fire.

But even in this noise,
Your soul is whispering:
“Peace… please, peace.”

You’re not asking for perfection.
You’re not demanding answers.
You just want stillness—
A quiet that says:
"I know He’s here."

And beloved,
That’s not weakness.
That’s wisdom.

That’s worship
In the middle of weeping.

Aspire to be you?
A round peg
In a square hole?
To be in your shoes?
No, thank you.

I can't be you—
An eagle
Admires a lion
Just to learn,
Not to become.

There's no kind like me,
And no second you.

A river
Becomes not the sea.
The river smiles
At the sea’s agility,
Nods in admiration,
Acknowledges the sea’s resilience.

To be you?
Ha-ha!
I shall pass.