Thoughts can be touched from no matter how far.
So think of good things no matter where you are.

Rush is a lie
For you and I.
You ask me why?
We are here till we die.

Time is quiet, but deadly,
Pushing us all.
Neither angry or friendly,
A universal wall.
Converting future to past.
The present a thin line.
No moment can last.
Everything will decline
Into history's arms.
It takes it all.
It gives no alarms,
nor listens to our call.
It has death on its right,
And regrets on its left.
Act now with foresight,
Prepare for its theft.

Today is all you have.
It starts again every day.
This reality the world you are given,
Here for you to play.
You are inside your body,
With this world all around you.
So don't let other bodies
Keep you from living how you want to.

To write is to breathe.
Letting out the inner heart,
the inner mind,
the inner life.

Write, for it is good.
Don't wait to be understood.
Just write like nobody can stop you.
Write out your dreams,
your revelation.

Write new and fresh lines.
For there is a whole world in you
to let out.
And time is short.

To write is to breathe!
Don't hold anything in.
Be free.
Be alive.

There is peace to find
In this world so wide.
Where is it, you ask?
Intimacy with the Creator.

If time on Earth is short,
then time with people is less.

So be the spark
in each other's dark.

This is true success.

We often are blind
To the value of things
Given without a price.

People, poems
Oxygen, parents
Your body and
Wise advise.

Everything is a memory,
A memory of old.

Right now it is real,
But the truth is it is old.
Very old.

this world will spin
mankind will buzz
people will die
new eras will begin
our graves wait
pulling us steadily
with the rope of time
some long
some short
some very short
which could be you
so do not live
without this truth
in your mind
and in your
heart

Each and every passing day
Will all be washed away.
So live exactly how
You have always wanted to right now.
Be the person you dream of being,
And make the decisions you know are freeing.

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?

At the end of our lives we'll think to ourselves:
what actually mattered?

Worries that seem so real right now,
by then, will all be scattered.

New generations to wave us goodbye.
It makes me stop and wonder why

we live without even caring about
the life we will all live once we die.

Poetry says a lot about people,
Not just the person who wrote it.
Every person responds in their very own way;
Some so amazed they promote it.
I like to think of what goes through
The minds of those reading what I write.
Whether they recognize nothing of value,
Or whether they discover delight.

The blue planet twirls.
Humans call it days.

They all live and breathe
under Sun's golden rays.

Smoke comes and goes,
so does life's ways.

The human heart is
what forever stays.

So check it twice.
It bears God's gaze.

His work on it
is what remains.

Those who seek him,
he will raise.

What if we were called to bliss?
And didn't have to strain?
What if we were born for rest?
And through that is true gain?
What if this Earth holds a secret
Only found by those who rebel?
Breaking out of limitation,
Now free from the prison cell.

What is homier than your bedroom?
Having God hold your hand.
What is cosier than your blankets?
God's promise forever to stand.
What is more intimate than your pillow?
God's thoughts of love for you.
What is more snug than your pajamas?
God's grace carrying you through.

What is poetry,
but your heart's voice
singing into reality?

Time is what you have that contains the most value.

When honour awakes,
ordinary things become vibrantly alive for you.

when you look beyond busyness
what is it that you see?
a world endlessly searching
for what it was meant to be?
a mankind desperately looking
for the answer to its ache,
striving to achieve
some sort of break
from its broken heart
of pain and agony,
hoping to fix this
crippled reality?
when I look beyond busyness
I know what I see
a world waiting for God's return
when he destroys the enemy
a world waiting for the story to turn
to the part where Earth is set free

This life can cause pain
But with it is gain.

You may as well push through
To where it leads to.

For it's where your heart longs to be:
Matured, grown, and more free.

white pages before me
pure as snow

no mark, no scratch
no story to show

page after page
waiting to be used

patient, at peace
excited, and amused

each page a day
of the future world

anticipating the time
when their purpose will unfold

who will be a part of them?
everyone but those yet to be

who will enjoy them most?
the people who now get ready

Who touches your heart the most
Making you come alive?
Who draws out gold in you
That you on your own can't contrive?
Who raises you to your glory
Surprising even yourself?
Who picks you up and reads you
When most put you on the shelf?
Who transports you to another world
Of magic when they are around?
Who speaks from rich wells deep
That you lean closer to hear the sound?
Who carries an atmosphere of warmth
No matter how cold the weather?
Who connects with you so frightfully well
That you know you were born to be together?
Whoever this gift from heaven is
Pour your whole soul into them.
Whatever on earth the cost is
Give it all up to secure this gem.

Ultimately, what you believe, you are.

Good days come with bad ones.
Time carries many different moments.
What matters is that each person runs
With Jesus. It's what makes the most sense.

It may seem like you are lonely,
but you aren't.

You choose the influences that guide your life's steady stream.

more
power
lies
inside
you
than
whatever
you
have
realized

Your reality reflects your heart.
When your heart is warm,
Reality is sweet.
When your heart is cold,
Reality is bitter.
Look after your heart.
Let God nurture it
And restore it.
Come and give it to him.
For it is not the location
Of your body,
But rather,
The location of your heart
That determines your peace.
Keep your heart alive
In the presence of your creator.

Seize the speedway.
Try going outdoors.
For at the end of the day
This day was yours.