I long to be
Something
To someone
And a nobody
To no-one
But often
The story
Seems to
Cut me
From everyone
And I ache
Alone
Hoping
I will be
Something
To someone

Impatiently sitting on the bench ahead
Cup stares at me as if wanting to be fed
So I grab Cup and find a boiling kettle
Fill Cup with water hoping it will settle
But Cup begins to steam and nag
So I search the cupboard for a tea bag
Choosing one from the others, I quickly drop it in
The water changing colours, makes me throw it in the bin
I think the dark stuff is something bad
And Cup seems to look pretty sad
So I try to swallow the black stuff away
But my method seems to make Cup dismay
Before I begin, something hot hurts my lip
I didn’t realise that Cup could nip
So I hurry towards the kitchen sink
Tip Cup upside down, before I can think
Cup throws up, being upside down
I forgot Cup got sick when moved around
So I put Cup back where he was
I can see that Cup feels better because
Cup is no longer steaming or spewing any more
Come to think of it, I don’t know why I touched Cup at all!

Are you alive
To develop poetry?
Or is poetry alive
To develop you?
When I look at
Those questions closely
I see that
Both could be true.

What about you?

A whisper in the wind,
Or a golden evening glow.
A sweet bright morning song,
Or a falcon flying low.
Creation speaks its beauty,
Invites the heart of man,
To join it in its duty,
Praise the great "I AM".

A whisper in the wind,
Or a tow'ring mountain's might.
A gently coursing river,
Or a brilliant starlit night.
God's glory will be sung,
For now and evermore,
So join the endless chorus,
"Holy is the LORD".

A whisper like the wind,
I hear it in my heart.
This is the beginning,
A merely humble start.
The verge of all forever,
When time no longer is,
Unimaginable splendor,
My mind grows faints at this.

A whisper in the Wind,
How it made my eyes to see,
The story of Creation,
The Makers majesty.
I now will seek to find,
The heart of God's great love.
For if by it was wonder,
Surely alone it's enough.

If a fourth wall did exist
Like in the fictional stories you know
How different would you act?
Would you smile and put on a show?
I believe there is a fourth wall
A person who lives outside time
Watching and studying us all
Aware of the thoughts in our mind.
His name is Holy Ghost
He fills this world to the brim.
He waits for people to break
The fourth wall and talk with him.

A choose your own adventure book
Mimics life so well.
If only I could have a look
At other stories life could tell.
I would peak into the different plots
Where reality would diverge.
I’d probably begin to notice lots
Of new problems which emerge.
Though curious, I’ll remain content
With this narrative I am in.
May the future me not want it
To be contrary to how it has been!