Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
When I'm drowning with fear, I feel strengthened
When I'm lost, I find my way
When I'm at the bottom, I'm pulled up
I hear his encouraging voice all the time
He hasn't given up on me & I doubt he will for his love exists abundantly
His heart's filled with joy and I praise him everyday for no goodness comes except through him
Yuwa Iveren Aug 2020
A few words I nibbled off
The back of my hand
They said
"Flow in the river"
I could not understand.

My feet went for it anyways
Nothing showed confusion
So my hands played the drums this way.
My new affiliation.

I'm afflicted with the rhythm of the river
It's tempo is fueling this fever
I can't awaken until
The growing Weaver
Recides in this flowing river.

I am stuck in this desire
I'll write the epic to our delima
The one where you are unwavering
I am stuck in this desire,
To love my unchanging river.
I could not imagine the beat of my heart changing it's tempo. Or my veins switching places with my arteries. Buzzard. Imagine if your muse syncs without you. Sad. I can't loose my unchanging river.
SerenaDuru Aug 2020
When I draw nigh unto thee,
The warmth of Thy Presence encompasses my body,
And my eyelids may lay to rest;
I need not seek anymore.
Lily Apr 2020
Chest heaving, eyes weeping,
The tomb blurs before my eyes.
How is everyone else still sleeping
When my Savior doesn’t arise?

Oh, how the doubt roars within me,
His words now seem to me as His rotting flesh,
“I will rise on day three,”
But his body is now stolen, unless…

Dirt clenching onto my dress,
I fling the tears from my eyes,
Trying to decide if… Yes!
There are people by his graveside.

Angels they must be, all in white,
And before I can confirm their existence, they speak:
“Woman, why are you weeping at this sight?”
My anger flares as I try to control my speech.

“Because my Lord has been taken away,
And I don’t know where his body is.”
I attempt to keep my temper at bay,
Turning away to abate my boiling fears.

Then I see the gardener, and a flash of brilliance
Or desperation rises in me, which one I don’t know,
But as I open my mouth to ask about my Lord’s disappearance,
He speaks: “Why are you weeping woman, why such sorrow?”

Again the same question, yet I cannot form
An adequate response; how can one describe
The loss of Him who can calm the storm,
But now has left my world in turmoil at his sacrifice?

My anger reaches the heavens now,
And in irritation I retort, “If you have taken Him away,
Tell me where He is, and I will take him from thou.”
Chest heaving, eyes weeping, I glance away.

But then I hear my name, soft and sweet but firm,
Two syllables, a clear “Mary!”
And I turn
And my unbridled joy at seeing him turns into “Rabboni!”

I ponder for a second what it’s like to feel
Sadness, for in that split second, it’s gone,
It’s been replaced by rejoicing and zeal,
And I resist the urge to leap with the dawn.

How could I have ever doubted?
Of course His words are true,
It’s a reality that must be shouted,
Yet all I can do is stare at him now that he’s in my view.

“Do not cling to me,” he says earnestly
“For I still must ascend to my Father,
And please tell our friends this, for certainly
I ascend to My God and your God, My Father and your Father.”

It was good he said this, for I had forgotten
In my excitement to see my Savior; I’m sure
His disciples must have wondered whether their Lord had rotted:
“I’m leaving right now, my Savior!”

Sandals rubbing into callouses, lungs heaving,
I ran back to town, through the streets that
Once knew me in despair, grieving,
Hardly stopping, for I had no time to chat.

My Savior has risen, he is alive and well,
He has saved us lost sheep who have gone astray,
And although He no longer on Earth will dwell,
He will never allow us to fully decay.

I’m sure when you die he will call your name too,
With a voice soft and sweet but firm and so true,
And you will go be with Him and He’ll make you brand-new,
And we’ll all live forever from our own Easter morning, too.
Happy Easter weekend, everyone!  Although this  isn't an Easter we could foresee or plan for, God's resurrection and Word is still the same, during this time and every time.  Hallelujah!  This poem is based on John 20:11-18.
God chose you
Not a “mere man”
He did not imagine being abandoned
Although he envisioned it
But he called you back

God chose you
Not a “mere man”
He whispered into your ears the truth
Hoping you’d “hearken”
But you refuse

God chose you
Not a “mere man”
His kingdom isn’t for them
He placed a crown on your head
But you refuse coronation

God chose you
Not a “mere man”
Gods love
Your touch is invisible
I see it clearly
I feel it deeply

You light up my life
With a whisper in my dark mind.
I experience glory

You are not a man
But a friend to many.
It’s undeserving

You love me
Am I worth it?
Gods love is still the greatest. Relentless love
blackbiird Mar 2019

if God created the earth in seven days,
who’s to say He won't turn your rainfall
into sunshine in one moment?

blackbiird Mar 2019

if I could replace all the
words in every book
with your name
I would,

but no amount of words on a page
could ever compare to what your heavenly
father calls you:

His daughter.
His most prized possession.
The one who took the nails
so that you may live.

so dry your tears
and dance with Him.
for He dances beside you even
on your darkest nights.

For my dear friend Kelsie. I love you! God loves you.
abigail j s Feb 2019
and i must strive
to remind myself
of Your love
(patient and overwhelming
and profound)
every morning
so i do not lose sight
of the vibrance
of living.
written August 13, 2018.
blackbiird Feb 2019

she spent her entire
life chasing diamonds
only to realize
that her greatest
treasure was always beside her
whispering in her ear
"you're more precious than all the riches of this world."

Next page