"rejoices" poems
Tender oversized hugs made of never ending love.
A broad smile bought belly laughs time and time again.
Aching cheeks from a dose of over indulged happiness.
Always larger than life.
Life and soul.
Our life and soul.
Deep set wrinkles from a lifetime of worry.
Never stopping to rest.
Fussing here pampering there.
Your selflessness and determintion to enjoy life knew no bounds.
You enjoyed the next generation of
the family as much as the last.
No longer disabled and heaven
rejoices at the return of an angel.
The last of your generation.
Reunited with long lost relatives.
We feel your love Nan
We always have.
We always will.
Till we meet again....
Good night
and
God Bless.
X
Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 4:52 PM UTC
gulls and terns spin in the air
as waves lullaby the sleepy dreamers
with grand tales and rich promise of paradise to be
found just over the horizons edge
sailors eye to the swift wind
sure hand to tackle and line
hearty men of salted liquid soil
grown to giants in the breakwaters thunder
but gentle that hands heart
when the tolling bell calls out the names of the lost
and the sea has swept away all but her witnessed tale
to leave the widows and forlorn child to
carve name to wall and mourn
past midnight now
a dead calm
and cloudless sky reigns
with a majesty of brilliant starlight
upon this sea reflecting the heavens slow march
i lay like a supplicant muted by the spectacle
to souls hunger this moment and place
shows a deeper meaning to thouse souls with eyes to see
a dead calm
and cloudless sky reigns
with a majesty of brilliant starlight
the old salt sailor breaks into deep song
that sooths and lends hardy meal to the heart
hold fast young lad hold fast
the morning rushing forward brings
the breaking wave and unfolds sail with quick wind
and the sailors eye rejoices with
merry songs to measure the hour
and jauntily bring our fair seabird
back to her warm home
sea and sand in the salt sailors blood
and a kind heart guides the way
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 2:10 PM UTC
I was never considered a friend,
just a classmate,
a time-pusher that was all i was.
But today,
i planted a smile.
A smile so deep and pure,
it came as a shock to her.
A surprize indeed.
But surely my own heart rejoices to know that i planted a smile.
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 9:42 AM UTC
4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. 8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.
~ 1 Corinthians 13:4-8
Feb 14, 2018
Feb 14, 2018 at 10:01 AM UTC
The ties that bind us are the very ones that separate us.
We have shared a lot of things in common;
And yet most of those common things put a barrier between us.
We have laughed at the same jokes,
Danced to the same drums,
Rejoiced to similar songs,
And sang in similar tunes;
The ties that bind us together.
And yet our differences are always ever apparent.
For as I laugh with tears in my eyes,
You laugh with your teeth,
Hiding the very emotion that binds us from the world to see;
As I dance to the budima drums,
You dance to the drum beats of the kuomboka,
Having the sound that binds us, separate us by how its produced.
I dance to ching’ande and you dance to mfukutu,
Excusing the world from seeing our similar steps.
Oh, the ties that bind us.
I sang Jesus loves me when you sang give me the bible;
Spreading your words in Bemba as I spread mine in Tonga.
How the ties that bind us are so quick to separate us.
Wow, I say to myself as I look at you standing right in front of me.
The bonds of our ties grow stronger as we grow older,
And yet weaker with the passage of time;
We share from the same vein, bound by blood forever;
And yet the differences in the ******* that provided for us separate us.
We come from the same womb,
And yet the little differences in the arrangement of our protein molecules make us different.
Indeed the ties that bind us.
Our mother rejoices in calling us all her children;
And yet the men that take pride in us differ.
Our father sings songs of the products of his manhood;
And yet the women that sing along with him sing differently.
He is the tie that binds;
And he the one that separates us.
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 9:54 AM UTC
So many stones have been thrown at me,
That I'm not frightened of them anymore,
And the pit has become a solid tower,
Tall among tall towers.
I thank the builders,
May care and sadness pass them by.
From here I'll see the sunrise earlier,
Here the sun's last ray rejoices.
And into the windows of my room
The northern breezes often fly.
And from my hand a dove eats grains of wheat...
As for my unfinished page,
The Muse's tawny hand, divinely calm
And delicate, will finish it.
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I cry, I frown, I aggravate, I shout
She laughs, she smiles, she simplifies and rejoices aloud
She is totally different from me
Se lives in me but is always free
When I frighten, she enlighten
with every step she brighten
she is a child in me
full of glee
when I become quiet in sadness
she does all work in quite Madness
what I deceive, is her believe
This bond is what makes us unique
We take different trains from the same station
My every work is a subject to her allegation
our roads don't match, but our destinations do
I don't know why her clumsiness is better than my neatness to
We both are one unit
I am a misfit, she is a nit wit
But, I lack the charisma she has
yet I am learning the way she act as
So what, we take different paths
we reach the same parks
Hurry up, I need to end this poem
to stop her playing from a toy lion...
Jan 13, 2021
Jan 13, 2021 at 1:55 AM UTC
I stood on the ledge of my sleepy blue sorrow
back from the edge, guess I'll see you tomorrow
can't lie, not the first time I'm thinking of you
but the night bugs are out, life's distractions will do
I looked to the west as the day slowly faydeedid
turned up the volume of cricket and katydid
rhythm rubs life in the darkness outside
steer clear of the blue light or get yourself fried
With the zapper you took out the skeeters and flies
while spiders and ants faced the raider's demise
yellow jackets and wasps, you chased from their hives,
but these night bugs are here for the rest of our lives
bittersweet bugs for the rest of our lives
Back in the house now, I roll down the screen
protecting myself from the lurking unseen
from the critters, which drawn by the lure of the light
make feast in their famine on food, flesh and fright
we handle the things that intrude in our spaces
the bugs in the dark and the unwanted faces
we roll down the screens and we listen to voices
those sweet summer sounds, and this night bug rejoices
With the zapper you took out the skeeters and flies
while spiders and ants faced the raider's demise
yellow jackets and wasps, you chased from their hives,
but these night bugs are here for the rest of our lives
too many months have passed without hearing
the music which blends with the night bugs I'm fearing
I nearly lost hope for those sounds in my life
but these night bugs revive good ol' summertime strife
bittersweet bugs, for the rest of my life
Stood on the ledge of my sleepy blue sorrow
back from the edge, guess I'll see you tomorrow
Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 1:14 PM UTC
Dancing dark eyes---
darting ***** bees
that come flying
seeking nectar from my lips,
in a quest that goes beyond the limits.
You are the scented wind
with salacious intent
from billowing ***** fields
wildly grown in Western ghat mountain ranges,
that are in full bloom.
You twist and swirl,
lift me up
and take to the golden cloud
that has a mystic spell
where my mind rejoices,
beyond the binding of time
in Shiva's dance,
while his consort Shakti resonates
with every beat of the divine drum
that echoes my heart.
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 12:56 PM UTC
It has to mean something.
The way our bodies fit together like Pangea.
When we're together the world rejoices,
I feel it in my bones.
A reuinion longed for,
deep in the collective soul of the earth.
We should have known, we'd be
lovers
separated
by outside forces
Drifting apart, slowly but surely.
It has to mean something
When our bodies converge
Mine subducted under yours
And volcanoes erupt.
It has to mean something,
How your lips on mine feel magnetic attraction.
How my fingers intertwine with yours
An electrical circuit, completed.
Our love could put the stars to shame.
Not only light up the night,
but consume and leave it in darkness
-power surge.
It had to mean something.
We diverged.
The space between us in bed, a trench.
The space between the bed where I lied awake waiting for you and the couch where you drank.
The space between the apartment you abandoned and the home you returned to.
Did it mean
Anything?
Dec 31, 2018
Dec 31, 2018 at 2:55 PM UTC
The blind Parisian has never seen the tower, or the lights that illuminate his city of birth
The deaf Italian never heard the opera, or Core 'ngrato from a Tuscany street corner
I never looked into your eyes and saw the cosmos
I am distracted by the power of corporate America
The unflinching pacifist still stands atop a suit of armour with his arms outstretched
and Syria rejoices as the stench of liberty matches gun powder and familial genocide
Oh western world, have you forgotten your past so soon?
Explain to the deaf man how her voice sounds
or
Explain the colour spectrum to a blind child
and then deny the tears that water your cheek
Tell the dyslexic that words are meaningless for it gives him comfort
and turn your back on the monetary religion of which we are indoctrinated
Take your ******* industry and bring it to it's submissive knees
Your weapons too, they are a disgrace
Empathy is universal
Love is blind
[Cliche]
[Cliche]
End.
A return, or a refrain, addendum to the ideas thenceforth
It's enough to leave a man crying in his coffee, Starbucks specialty
**** your poets, burn your books and gouge your eyes
This world is not broken, we are.
Mar 27, 2013
Mar 27, 2013 at 12:45 PM UTC
Heal, Raphael! Saint on Deep Wounds repair
As the Fifth Great Angel will now allow
With Thanks as my Tray for Modesty's care
Her well-written Paper of Words everhow
And that Plus-Filled Bulb called Inspiration
Installed by the Lad diving from your Wing
Your Feather reveals such Uncondition
Like the Seven rest their Model do sing
Thorns, Horns and Unreasonable Intent,
Those Demons you Eight managed to repel
Pre or Post-Ring, one Thing I am content
That Plym's Living Daughters know how to Spell.
Especially you. The First of your Kind
Your Prince rejoices. Please bear that in Mind.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 5:10 PM UTC
Stood on the ledge of my sleepy blue sorrow
back from the edge, guess I'll see you tomorrow
can't lie, not the first time I'm thinking of you
but the night bugs are out, life's distractions will do
I looked to the west as the day slowly fadyded
turned up the volume of cricket and katydid
rhythm rubs life in the darkness outside
steer clear of the blue light or get yourself fried
With the zapper you took out the skeeters and flies
while spiders and ants faced the raider's demise
yellow jackets and wasps, you chased from their hives,
but these night bugs are here for the rest of our lives
bittersweet bugs for the rest of our lives
Back in the house now, I roll down the screen
protecting myself from the lurking unseen
from the critters, which drawn by the lure of the light
make feast in their famine on food, flesh and fright
we handle the things that intrude in our spaces
the bugs in the dark and the unwanted faces
we roll down the screens and we listen to voices
those sweet summer sounds, and this night bug rejoices
With the zapper you took out the skeeters and flies
while spiders and ants faced the raider's demise
yellow jackets and wasps, you chased from their hives,
but these night bugs are here for the rest of our lives
too many months have passed without hearing
the music which blends with the night bugs I'm fearing
I nearly lost hope for those sounds in my life
but these night bugs revive good ol' summertime strife
bittersweet bugs, for the rest of my life
Stood on the ledge of my sleepy blue sorrow
back from the edge, guess I'll see you tomorrow
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 5:53 PM UTC
THORNED CROSS OF SCARLET TEARS,
OH HOW THY HAVE KNEELED TO THOU THROUGHOUT THE YEARS.
THOU SMOOTH BEADS THAT SWIRL AROUND THOU NECK OF THE HOLY SON,
OH HOW THY HAVE REPEATED “OUR FATHERS” AND “HAIL MARYS” FOR THOU PATRIARCHAL CREATOR ABOVE.
LOVING HANDS THAT SHALL SHOW THOU THE LADDER TO HEAVEN,
OH HOW THY BELIEVES WINGS WILL PREVAIL OVER THOU TAIL OF SATAN.
CIRCLES OF GOLD AND ASCENDED WINGS,
OH HOW THY AWAITS FOR THOU REDEMPTION THOU SHALL BRING.
FEMININE CANDLES TO AWAIT THOU FEMININE ACT OF BIRTH,
OH HOW THY LIFTS THE FOUR CANDLES FOR ALL THOU IS WORTH.
THE WINE THAT CAME FROM THOU WATER,
OH HOW THY SHALT TELL THOU MIRACLE TALE TO THOU DAUGHTER.
WHITE AND BLUE ROSES OUR LADY OF HELP REQUESTS AT HER FEET FOR HER BIRTHDAY,
OH HOW THY BUYS FLOWERS FOR THOU NEXT TIME THY AND THOU MEET.
HEART PROTECTED BY THE SHIELD OF THE HOLY SPIRIT’S GUIDANCE,
OH HOW THY NEVER BECOMES A VICTIM TO SUBSIDENCE.
WATER THAT SWIRLS INTO THE BLOOD OF CHRIST,
OH HOW THY REMEMBERS HOW THE SON SAVED US IN SIGHT.
BREAD THAT ENTERS THE BODY AND THUS THE SON HIMSELF,
OH HOW THY REMEMBERS TO REFLECT IN THYSELF.
EYES TOWARDS THE SKY IN HOPE OF MIRACLES,
HOW THE LIGHT IN THY VISION RETURNS SYMMETRICAL.
PAIN THAT DISAPPEARS LIKE THE AIR FROM THY LUNGS,
OH HOW THY REJOICES WITH THE WORDS THAT ROLL OF THY TONGUE.
PRAYING FOR THE HOPE THAT THOU SAVIOR PUSHES UNTO THY SOUL,
OH HOW THY GETS CLOSER TO THY GOAL.
REMEMBERING THE GRIM THAT THE CRUCIFIXION CAUSED THE SON WITH GRACE,
OH HOW THY IS STRUCKEN WITH TEARS DOWN THY FACE.
INVISIBLE MORTAL WINGS THAT SHALL ONE DAY BE SEEN AND RISE ABOVE,
OH HOW THY BELIEVES IN THE REDEMPTION BY THE DOVE.
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 6:52 AM UTC
Pink snow falling soft
A stroll in cherry blossoms
My soul rejoices
Oct 15, 2021
Oct 15, 2021 at 10:38 AM UTC
I stand looking out through a window
At a world I never thought would be mine
My heart has been low
And my soul was not fine
The world is where I truly belong
It is a world that has always be a part of me
But I was never quite so strong
As to climb through the window to where I should be
You saw me looking though the glass
And wondering about the world that was there
You came to me and helped me pass
To your world and for a life to share
Now I am in the world where I should be
With a love that makes me feel life is worth living
I am in this world now it is you and me
I am humbled by the love that you are giving
Know that the love is returned to you
By a heart that now is free
Of the fear that grew
Keeping this love from me.
My spirit rejoices and my body does dance
You are the light in my life and joy in my heart
This most beautiful romance
Of which the universe allows us take part
Jul 30, 2021
Jul 30, 2021 at 4:01 AM UTC
I (Bread and Music)
Music I heard with you was more than music,
And bread I broke with you was more than bread;
Now that I am without you, all is desolate;
All that was once so beautiful is dead.
Your hands once touched this table and this silver,
And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.
These things do not remember you, beloved,
And yet your touch upon them will not pass.
For it was in my heart you moved among them,
And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes;
And in my heart they will remember always,--
They knew you once, O beautiful and wise.
II
My heart has become as hard as a city street,
The horses trample upon it, it sings like iron,
All day long and all night long they beat,
They ring like the hooves of time.
My heart has become as drab as a city park,
The grass is worn with the feet of shameless lovers,
A match is struck, there is kissing in the dark,
The moon comes, pale with sleep.
My heart is torn with the sound of raucous voices,
They shout from the slums, from the streets, from the crowded places,
And tunes from the hurdy-gurdy that coldly rejoices
Shoot arrows into my heart.
III
Dead Cleopatra lies in a crystal casket,
Wrapped and spiced by the cunningest of hands.
Around her neck they have put a golden necklace,
Her tatbebs, it is said, are worn with sands.
Dead Cleopatra was once revered in Egypt,
Warm-eyed she was, this princess of the South.
Now she is old and dry and faded,
With black bitumen they have sealed up her mouth.
O sweet clean earth, from whom the green blade cometh!
When we are dead, my best beloved and I,
Close well above us, that we may rest forever,
Sending up grass and blossoms to the sky.
IV
In the noisy street,
Where the sifted sunlight yellows the pallid faces,
Sudden I close my eyes, and on my eyelids
Feel from the far-off sea a cool faint spray,--
A breath on my cheek,
From the tumbling breakers and foam, the hard sand shattered,
Gulls in the high wind whistling, flashing waters,
Smoke from the flashing waters blown on rocks;
--And I know once more,
O dearly beloved! that all these seas are between us,
Tumult and madness, desolate save for the sea-gulls,
You on the farther shore, and I in this street.
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Dandelions stand tall
above the grass.
Inviting, daring. Brave.
I have the energy
but not the heart
to mow them down.
The grass rejoices.
My conscience frowns.
My dog sleeps on.
r ~ 7/6/14
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 10:29 AM UTC
Usually I embrace the lack of sound,
but lately it’s been peeling the paint off the walls.
The chips scatter and collect on the ground,
in boredom I pick them up and roll them into *****
I forget the last voice that touched my ear,
but there’s only one I truly seem to crave,
even when telling me things I don’t want to hear
I find it impossible for me not to cave.
I’ve been playing Spy vs Spy
with my reflection in the mirror.
The black and white catches my eye
but the mix to grey is growing nearer.
There’s something else I want to try,
as the difference between good and bad is getting clearer.
I remember everyone else but forgot I,
I’m not too sure if I should fear her.
So what side are you on?
Are you here or are you gone?
Normally I love the pitch black dark
but tonight it’s drowning me in an abyss.
The structure and outlines that once were stark
are now details even the sharpest eye could miss.
I forget the last person to grace my sight,
there’s only one I wish to be standing in place,
her glow would banish the darkness of night,
whether she was caressing or slapping my face.
I’ve been playing Spy vs Spy
with my opposing thoughts and views,
and lately I’ve just been getting by
by drinking raindrops and morning dews.
A goal too far or maybe too high,
but that’s hardly any breaking news.
So what side are you on?
Are you hand written or hand drawn?
You’re holding me under water, watching me drown so slow,
pulling me up for air and saying “don’t breathe, just blow.”
You’re holding me under water,
watching me drown so slow,
then pulling me up for air begging
“please, oh please, don’t go.”
I’ve been playing Spy vs Spy
with my conflicting feelings and limited choices,
no right path for me so the left I defy,
in the distance I may just hear voices.
It’s comedic how I accept a lie,
and I’m sure she still rejoices.
So what side are you on?
Are you twilight or are you dawn?
Mar 19, 2019
Mar 19, 2019 at 2:38 PM UTC
Looking down from over their bodies - I count them.
My split mind at once rejoices in and recoils from that counting.
Peering back over my shoulder I make
dark associations.
It’s as if I was afraid of becoming lost
the way the bodies made a trail like bread crumbs,
leading back from the places I had been.
I walk with the Holy Light.
I walk with my dark companion.
I walk between the spines of the body shrikes.
They harvest all my crumbs and remind me I am lost.
They hook the bodies high from spikes
so I look up to make the body count.
I can see the Holy Script
but I can’t seem to find the way.
Red and gold beacons in the dream,
flickering off and on like syncopated declarations
as if saying:
Here I am
Here I am
Here I am.
All elbows and knees I slip between the webs of the
orb weavers and the cactus spines of the butcher birds
while they count the bodies for me:
Here they are
Here they are
Here they are.
Hang-dog and hard of breathing I have my medicine.
I’m hanging from the sleeping cliffs over
hell’s half acre and the high deserts.
I remember my brother flying me to California on a great olive branch.
He fed me sushi and smiled while he watched by brain heal.
But I was coming for the bodies.
My count was smaller then, but it was high enough for him
and his hands were the keepers of the flame.
The fire there was exiled and quietly he laid it by.
My brother spread out over the carpet of time like
the faithful departed with the weavers and the shrikes and
mounted bodies in the sky.
A child appears before me on the walk - eyes like a baby deer.
His mother is two blocks behind, so he asks three questions while he waits:
Why are you smoking?
Where are your hands?
Is it getting dark soon?
He leaves me to wonder where my hands are and where the dark is,
the Holy Sage smoking at my side.
Like some dark sabbath.
Like some reading of the will.
Like some dark and holy delta sleep in a crib of red clay.
I have a feeling I have been gone a very long time and I
want to be home now,
but there is buzzing and chirping and a red light and
Saul of Tarsus holds a great tome before me and with my hands
I hide my eyes.
I am the dreaming of the world of dreams.
Therein the Holy Light rages like the flare of 1000 suns
while my eyes are shuttered tight
like old memories all gone beyond the sorrow.
The old oath keepers are all plates and screws.
The golden woven orbs and cactus spines are all empty on
the altar like a decommissioned slaughterhouse.
So I go and make a body count.
Jul 31, 2020
Jul 31, 2020 at 8:00 PM UTC
The boat ploughed on. Now Alcatraz was past
And all the grey waves flamed to red again
At the dead sun's last glimmer. Far and vast
The Sausalito lights burned suddenly
In little dots and clumps, as if a pen
Had scrawled vague lines of gold across the hills;
The sky was like a cup some rare wine fills,
And stars came as he watched
-- and he was free
One splendid instant -- back in the great room,
Curled in a chair with all of them beside
And the whole world a rush of happy voices,
With laughter beating in a clamorous tide. . . .
Saw once again the heat of harvest fume
Up to the empty sky in threads like glass,
And ran, and was a part of what rejoices
In thunderous nights of rain; lay in the grass
Sun-baked and tired, looking through a maze
Of tiny stems into a new green world;
Once more knew eves of perfume, days ablaze
With clear, dry heat on the brown, rolling fields;
Shuddered with fearful ecstasy in bed
Over a book of knights and ****** shields . . .
The ship slowed, jarred and stopped. There, straight ahead,
Were dock and fellows. Stumbling, he was whirled
Out and away to meet them -- and his back
Slumped to the old half-cringe, his hands fell slack;
A big boy's arm went round him -- and a twist
Sent shattering pain along his tortured wrist,
As a voice cried, a bloated voice and fat,
"Why it's Miss Nancy! Come along, you rat!"
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Holy yards of hallowed houses of prayer
rise in sublime chants and hymns
at this hour of the blessed dawn
when auspicious shades of light
grace the scabbards of swords
long sheathed and covered in shadows
of figures on the stained glasses
A divided land of long used to darkness
engulfing, rejoices: a saviour rises,
a hero who can unite and heal:
purple robe and the rag, Roman
and Celt: the long suffering realm
finds solace at last in order and justice;
A quest brews, of sacred chalices
In the noble hearts of faithful knights:
Alas, a tragedy in the shadows,
whither, famed Artorius, wise?
Hades schemes to ****** away
your Persephone to Annfwyn afar:
No mortal wounds could fell you alive,
But this, you carry on to Avalon.
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 1:29 PM UTC
782
There is an arid Pleasure—
As different from Joy—
As Frost is different from Dew—
Like element—are they—
Yet one—rejoices Flowers—
And one—the Flowers abhor—
The finest Honey—curdled—
Is worthless—to the Bee—
2k
Texas mud, a mud that cakes
A mud that strikes fear
In boots and trucks alike
After fresh summer rain
Billowy clouds rolling a long
Singing their thunderous song
Natures long cool drink
I was muddy once
Moms words i didn't hear as i hit the back door
Thoughts of squishy toes and big smiles
A freshly made mud pie for my sister
I was muddy once
To a boy of ten 2 acres goes on for miles
A whole mess a villains ever willing to meet
The business end of my B.B. gun
And the neighbors nurf gun
I was muddy once
From the trenches of France
To a foxhole on Mars
Only fenced in by the outermost stars
I couldn't be bested
Backyard hoops to creek jumping
Swing sets to sword fights
I was muddy once
The only thought of future
Was what tomorrow would bring
New adventures, new places to see
And all you can drink sweet iced tea
I wanted to be something great when i was a kid
I wanted to be great
I wanted to be a paleontologist, doctor, lawyer, cop, superhero, captain of a yacht, a and mountain man, and never wanted to get married cause girls had cooties and dolls
As it turns out I am none of those things
As it turns out, what i needed most
Was i ran rarest away from
I became something i never thought i would be
I became something i never thought i could be
I am becoming a servant of the King
The mud which once covered my hands
Bound my heart in a thick, clogging bog
Only when i thought no longer of receiving glory
I began to poor grace out from this imperfect jar
Glory pored to a being more eloquent than I
Who hath poured mercy like wine
Love as a fire
Turning my so called foundations into Texas mud
Turns out God doesn't want me to be a doctor
Turns out God wants the willing not the able
i found something bigger
Than the thoughts i thought i knew
How glorious days of old
A tear to my eye and a distant memory
To stretch and grow is one thing
A loss of splendor another
When others think of yesterday,
Dream for tomorrow
Dream and dream big,
For God is bigger still
He rejoices in imagination
Delights in the mind of a child
Reclaim that which we've lost
For you were muddy once
I was muddy once
Apr 12, 2011
Apr 12, 2011 at 1:30 PM UTC
Love is patient,
love is kind.
It does not envy,
it does not boast,
it is not proud.
It does not dishonor others,
it is not self-seeking,
it is not easily angered,
it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil
but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects,
always trusts,
always hopes,
always perseveres.
Love never fails.
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 8:20 PM UTC