Prayer

230.

And this I pray;

That in the sinful murk of chaos your soul still flutters in between with defiant hope. Sometimes I just do not know what to do, but to pray when your loud mind runs and when your heartbeat grows still. And if your heart sinks into a quiet cold, know that Your God reaches in and resuscitates it once more.

Advertisements

221.

Though the sun may fail to shine and the grass wither, though water may no longer find its place with both the sky and the sea, though it may seem everything is falling irrefutably and surely apart. I want to praise You still, that though the shadow of darkness lies here with me, it cannot put up any competition to the light of Your love.

211.

Here with a new face, familiar but something that cannot be recognised. While there is so much euphoria at the turn of the clock, it is the days to come that matter most, when monotonous routine kicks in. When the hourglass’ sand trickles quietly.

Change is the paradoxical constant, the factor that drives all things, the very thing that cannot be grasped tightly lest it breaks. How very low will my heart beat when the seas are rough, when light seems lost and waning, there is no way out in the hedged maze. Sinking in an ocean of futile deep.

Remember what carries through, even when feelings quake and cry under duress, when all one can do is curl defensively in fright, frantic mind. Hold on to what has been made, even if hands seem to slip away. These voices echo the affection you have sown even when you were not always okay.

I am overwhelmed by your love, I do not deserve these things from you. You are the morning light, with you I always feel safe and sound. You are irreplaceable to me, I would not want anyone else to replace who you are to me — you remain close to my heart.

Love even when days feel impossibly empty. It returns, always, not for me alone but all.

186.

I understand now, what is it like to be loved by having something precious taken away. More than ever is the desire growing to fight the unfairness of things, yet it is not armour I am to pick up, but to lay down. This fist curled tight, pray for it to soften and unwind into graceful patience. There is much to learn still in this turbulence, where feelings and actions do not seem to comply, that distance is by far the most affectionate while closeness is hoped for. That in spite of apparent absence, how safe I remain.

Here, a confession to this space: how incredibly deep do I truly miss, yet this is where I choose to stay until our dark skies turn into pale grey.

173.

You have taught what it means to comfort a soul, how raw and impossible it is to embrace, but to do it anyway because of love.

Call to me in the darkness just to hear something real, keep the line alive even if you can barely breathe. Though the clouds shade the night sky it’s not as though you no longer exist.

Your sadness to me is magnetic, the way the moon has a pull on the tides of earth.

Tell me — am I unbearably cruel to lean into your pain, just to know you’re still here?

Washing arms that bleed from cuts self-inflicted, to navigate spoonfuls of food so that you would have the stomach to at least try. Come, align your fidgety fingertips with mine so that with the other we can count the number of blue cars whizzing past the street, just because it’s your favourite colour, just because it’ll keep you next to me, just so you can anchor yourself in control.

The tears streaming down cheeks say that you can feel, this by far better than the days you won’t even turn at the sound of your name. I will hold you, desperately so when your life is going off the rails, give me a rope and I promise to never let you sink into a quiet nothing. My heartbeat is a lullaby that is yours to keep, if yours is all but breaking into a hollowness that cannot be filled.

So please keep your shadow beside me. If you haven’t realised it yet, remember to stay safe — because I like being alive at the same time as you.

162.

I am angry

At the sun that sets while my fury is blazing

 

I am angry

At the planet that keeps spinning when there is a great evil invading

 

Monsters of the mind

There is a nail bomb set in a building

A rampant scattering piercing young innocent flesh

Crucified for the pleasure of the wicked

 

Monsters of the mind

There is a plane forced into a destination of none

Set flying to perpetuate a grieving of the land dwelling

An aircraft veiled as the mystery of Atlantis

 

If my words could take physical form

They are flaming arrows breaking into the lair of the corrupted

Purifying what shed blood cannot

 

If my words could take physical form

They are lit lanterns floating in the vengeful sky and crying streams

A cause to hope and love for those left behind

 

People are uncomfortable

To speak of race, gender, sexuality and religion

Associations that seem to divide humanity

 

People are uncomfortable

To understand the difference between equality and equity

To surrender a power held tightly to the chest

 

This is why I write

Be it a leaky pen or a furious typing

So that my words will teach the head how to dream and form a better tomorrow

 

This is why I write

Despite my clumsy stuttering and uncontrollable sobbing

So that one day there will be no more wars and cruel greed to turn family upon family.