Time to Depart
Feel it in my spirit that it’s turning around for me,
ready to step out until I’m living past the edge,
faith as the substance, belief as the humble origin
where the Word is absolutely everything.
No longer bound by the convenience of passing time
wishing for my desires to come true.
No darkness to keep me in a stagnant fear
of what may come into view,
I relinquish my hardened heart, exchange it for openness
that with God, all things become new.
Easy to look at what could go wrong,
or stare in the faces of the people that don’t move an inch
because that secretly say my progress is pointless.
If I believed their report instead of the messages sent by God,
I’ll be nothing more than someone standing
on the outside looking in,
never accomplishing anything,
just finding myself growing bitter by the minute,
timid when it comes to obstacles, so I stand there limited
by my own lack of momentum.
It’s time I stand in the boxing ring with this violent competitor,
never taking no for an answer, I fight until they either
hoist my arm up as the champion,
or carry me out covered on a stretcher.
Either way, I’m getting the hell outta here!
Circle of Friends
He sits outside of the circle of friends he’s known his whole life,
watching them crack jokes, having fun without a care in the world.
The outskirts have always been his comfort zone,
his point between the family he’s always hoped for,
and the isolation that he feels he deserves.
Wants to be a part of the banter,
but feels he has to play protector of his own heart,
secret knows that if his life came tumbling down,
it would be him alone to pick up the pieces.
So many people have told him to leave and, and roll solo,
that he’s always taking losses due to his loyalty,
never tending to his own needs because he’s so eager to please.
Would break himself in a heartbeat for his homies,
knowing they wouldn’t bend if he was ever in need,
but feeling if he set the proper example,
they would follow his lead.
They don’t learn a thing and neither does he,
so it’s him beating a dead horse, expecting to hear a heart beat.
Years later, surrounded by barbed wire and electric fences,
he sits outside of his circle of friends, watching them,
having no desire to join their camaraderie,
he’s too busy doing his own thing….
I live to achieve immortality,
having my presence on earth speak words of wisdom,
reach birds that migrate south for the winter,
teaching people ideas can go anywhere.
A drum roll brings formations of patient angels
awaiting instructions while I yearn for an answered prayer,
trumpets sounding to signify safe passage
while my mind is playing tricks,
trying to convince me that I’m too late for something
already happening …..
A cold rain discourages people not under the umbrella of confidence
that any weather can produce a blessing,
I allow the water to fall on my face,
knowing this momentary discomfort will still grow my seeds.
People want everything but are not willing to sacrifice anything;
they conceive extraordinary feats while they do nothing,
I watch them all, and my sadness turns into compassion
because I remember those days all I did was dream.
I have a history that can lead me in all directions,
so I become excited by my options, ecstatic by my prospects,
enamored by the potential for success.
Then I abandon it all, choosing to view life
like it’s my first day, nervous but ready,
immortality may come today.
I speak the truth to people with itching ears aiming
to believe in what makes for a good feeling.
Not going to be the symbol of popularity
when the tares outweigh the wheat,
appearing to be a flower,
but from the root, it’s nothing but a weed.
Passionately put the Word on display as the ”trier of different”
only to see it swatted away,
exchanged for words like ”my opinion”, ”my belief”,
or ”this is what I think”.
Drinking the poison of your own understanding
instead of being justified freely by faith,
I thought them that know the truth shall be set free?
I see overwhelming bondage in brothers,
leaders that reject leadership,
teachers who don’t receive the same Scripture they teach.
If we shall be known by our fruits,
and what’s known of you is no different than what people in the world do,
then how can we come out from among them and be separate,
touching no unclean thing, looking to be received?
I want to rightly divide the Word of truth,
represent Christ well by being a good shepherd,
never allowing a sheep to be led astray,
exercise the courage to spoil someone’s taste,
having the goal of showing them the Way.
They fight against the word right in their faces,
and I’m lost by what I do next;
I guess all I can do at this point is pray.
I see you Love, speak to you hoping you’d listen,
got a few things to say, hoping you got a minute.
I’m not myself without you,
traveled the world looking for you in people,
tried to feel your embrace with money, going in circles,
moving from one thing to the next, never in life finding rest.
I’m tired Love because you feel slippery,
taking all my power to hold on to you but I fall short,
sometimes, I think you’re mocking me when you see me crawling,
feels appalling to keep believing.
Saw reality into edible pieces, I have my fork and spoon ready,
begrudgingly eating until my stomach feels heavy.
I’m angry Love, because games have replaced your power,
defaced your message, desecrated your temple,
erased the memory of your benefits from the minds of people.
Now it’s hard for me to give anything resembling love away,
not because I don’t want to, but because people put you to waste.
Left with a gift no one seems to want anymore,
guess our ships can’t leave the port
because nothing fuels it but hate.
I see you Love, but why are you running away?