here am i,
trying to write again.
i think to myself,
what would i write?
what words must i twist or distort
or shape or arrange
to speak of the deepest of realities,
which is
Thee.
i am no dante
to wax poetic and
to sing of that love which
moves the sun and other stars.
i am no shakespeare
to write verses that will remain forever.
my words may never be an
illiad which will be forever etched
in the world's culture.
my words may only waft along the gentle
breeze of the quiet spring
unnoticed,
unread,
like words written on the shore,
washed away
and gone forever
in the high tide.
but write i must,
i think to myself,
and i begin to write
a postmodern poem,
writing of my own writing.
in an era where any poem
could as well be just cooked up
in miliseconds
with some tech-savvy tool,
i type along in a new notepad file
on my laptop,
letter by letter,
like some caveman from a different era.
but it bothers me not.
for i write of Thee
and hopefully for Thee.
You know the meanings of my poems.
You are my audience. my everything.
but hush - all i can think of now
is how transient life is.
Jesus, every passing moment,
even this very now,
ushers me
towards my death on earth.
although i am reluctant
and defiant
and although i do not want to face that end,
i am carried forwards to that end.
but buried under all these words
and hidden under all of my anxieties,
my fears,
and the unknowns,
yes, hidden under the frightening reality of
the death of my body
is a beautiful reality that will never die,
a reality that has never changed,
and will never change,
a river of crystal clear water
that will never peter out
but will always quench the thirst
of this my bleeding
hurting
thirsting
soul:
the love of Jesus Christ
you see my every moment
bringing me closer to you.
you see my fear of death
and tell me to look at you.
you see my never-still,
always fretting mind,
and tell me,
be still, my child,
for I am here.
you are Mine
and I am yours,
what else could you ever want.
I love you
with a love that is always alive and burning,
a love that is real and always certain.
what else would you need, My child.
what do you search for
when you have all you want and need.
why do you search at all
when you have
Me
