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Towards the tree line

I stare towards the tree line,
misshapen and abstract on my eyes
Fading in autumn’s chill and leafless
emptiness that I still cannot see

Oh it is there, screaming at me,
waving in the wind, calling in birdsong
But my eyes travel more…
a distance well beyond any footpath I’ve taken

Shelved on the high land vistas
now filled with charcoal persuasions
So very far, miles on scaled dotted lines,
asphalt tearing at my soles, untied laces drag

Still I gaze, following my heart into loneliness
Reaching for but a hint of a smile,
a fix-all for that broken heart,
a mosaic sponge to catch your tears…I find none

Tossing a stone, it bounces on fielded diaries,
words of pain scribbled before even a thought
Collections of wishes in a four leaf clover pockets,
brushed of life’s unfairness

If only I could hold you,
safely beneath that frown,
gently with the touch of every meaning,
building a wall to turn back the sorrow

Ivy covered in green temptations
breathing of trust and love,
lingering at locked doors to secure peace
And yet, I can only stare towards the tree line…blind and worthless

How do I express my gratitude
To the most Holy who has given me life?

Why is this day so set a part from the rest as it is another day He has given us life?
Maybe it shouldn't just be this day to give praise,
But every single day that He has given to us.

Let me live for you, Jesus.
Hear the song of my heart as I proclaim Your great love and faithfulness to the world.
Let me be set apart, different from the rest as I try my best to honor You.
Let me glorify you all my days, and let you be first in my mind and heart.
Cleanse my mind and my heart and make it pure.

Thank you for dying for me, sweet Lord Jesus.
This life is nothing in comparison to the eternity I will one day have with You.
Take this world and give me Jesus.

Maybe I don't notice the little things.
Like the way your mouth looks when it forms my name.
Or the way you feel steadier with your hand in mine.
Or even the way your fingernail is chipped from playing guitar for me.
But what I do notice is your eyes.
How they have little golden flecks in the soft green.
Green that's like a meadow in the summer that's more prominent in the sun.
I often stare into those eyes.
Trying to catch a glimpse of what you see in me.

frayed and tattered thoughts clutter the corners of my reflection,
growing and straining to break through the barriers I've erected;
thriving in numbers I thought I could hold at bay,
yet the impending destruction is now a constant.

my keep's strength and support tire under the amassing weight,
reflections that wish to break through & manifest are waning;
smothered and drowned in the ambush,
so the hope of ever breaking free remains just as it was.

a dream.
undisclosed.
a frayed & tattered thought.