do you know what I mean about feeding
the every need of this world
there’re so many folk who don’t see it
caught up in a life gone awhirl
where the pain and despair got the better
of all of their moments in time
and right now there is nothing but Me left
said Hope, I’m the last One to die
even if both your hands have grown weary
and all of your strength disappears  
just remember the Words I have spoken
they’re with you forever, my dear

so how do you discern the every thinking of your heart?
and when are you in synch with it and when are you afar?
does every thought you have consider what is Good and True?
or rather does it consecrate the darkest parts of you?
are you the kind of human who lays every word to death?
or are you not the former, too aware of every breath?
do you know what it feels like to be everything you are?
or do you bend your knee instead, to every fallen star?

I never had a friend who knew me any way at all
except The One Who promised He would be there if I fall
my ev-er-y emotion makes it harder to believe
that I am of more worth to You than anything that be
for who am I to reckon with a debt I could not pay
let by and by my heart accept Your ransom every day
I never knew a Friend the way I know You here and now
in Spirit and in Truth I’ve learned to worship You somehow

I woke up by the waters where my yesterdays were you
and watched as both our bodies turned to every shade of blue
our breaths were getting shorter and our hearts were beating fast
until the Sun appeared and cast its shadow on our backs
more beautiful a metaphor I couldn’t hope to dream
to wake up by the waters, let my yesterdays to be

I lean into a rhythm when I write a single phrase
find meaning in the beating, let each Word to make its way
my body always follows and my soul surrenders too
and suddenly The Sun has a horizon made of You
I revel in the warmth and choose to share it with the world
to give as much as possible to few or many more
my poetry is nothing but a measure I received
I offer it to anyone and everyone in peace

if there is a point to my writing
it never involves me at all
the best I can do is be mindful
of keeping These Words from withdrawal
my tongue has been some kind of a vessel
a pen that has ink, so to say  
it speaks out in every direction
of places I want to remain
I thought I could pass for a poet
but all I’ve been given is Yours
so here I am being a person
admitting I am nothing more