personal psalm

Blessed is the people
whose God is the Lord.

For he is great, and greatly to be praised.
The Lord our God carries us,
He makes our bodies ready for battles
He armors us against the attempts of the enemy on our lives.
With him we can soar, but if we lose sight
our waxen wings will melt
and we will plummet

Oh God, keep us in your sight
do not let us fall.
Bless us with your favor Lord,
Forgive us with your grace.
I am so sorry Lord, I have sinned.
Please, I beg your forgiveness.
Hold me again firm that I may not sin again.

I love you Lord.
Help me, I pray.
Hold me fast.
Hold my hand.


Breathe into me.

rather better☔️

I like the rain rather better than the sun

It fits my soul better

And expresses her mood more often

Oddest feeling

Sometimes I get the oddest feeling. 

It's as if I forget where I am, 

or, to be more accurate, 

I am acutely aware of where I am

but I am not there. 

My eternal soul twists within me,

reminding me that 

time will not constrain me forever. 

It reminds me that 

I am a being made eternal, 

That I will outlast this earth 

and its pleasures 

with merely a soul's length life. 

I wonder why I ever found 

pleasure or discouragement 

in temporal things, and

I wonder where 

there is true pleasure or discouragement for a soul eternal as my own. 

But then my feet touch down 

again to the ground,

my body regains its ghoulish companion.

My soul returns once more to flirt 

with this fading melody, 

this place left behind by heavenly infinity. 

I am once more a soul contained, 

once more a spirit 

incarcerated and half blind, 

full of folly 

without wisdom 

and having a distinct taste 

for the worst of sugary behaviors 

and unpalatable bliss. 

Worldly ecstasy ought to feel more fallible on the lips. 

And then it does, 

and I get the oddest feeling. 

Inadequate

Sleepless nights ought to grow flowers on my brain

Little ideas and smiley faces 

Sheathed in color and rolled in rich scent

But they do not. 

Instead, they scour my brain clean, they scrub until it hurts

They find the innermost layers unsatisfactory

They criticize and yell and finally breathless collapse to the floor 

Still whispering "not good enough, never good enough" 

Because sleepless nights find me at my worst 

And they never, ever hesitate to tell me so. 

gardening

Your mind is a flower garden,
your thoughts are daisies.
As a mother tells her toddler,
"Don’t pluck them until they’re ready"
so control your mouth.

starry sky

Don't let the stars entice you

Away from warmth safety reason

Honesty, and real life. 

They're just dust, a distant fairy tale. 

They can't help you. 

The promise in their sparkle lies as it shines. 

Today I...

Today I flirted with the wind,
or rather,
he flirted with me.

He grabbed my hands;
spun me around;
lifted my chin.

He told me I was beautiful,
and let me be on my way;
soaked in rain drop kisses,

my face the color of roses.

Alive Tonight

Tonight I feel really freaking alive.
I just want to breathe and run and live in the sky.
I want to be a poem instead of writing them.

My soul is beautiful, my heart is a song.
The sky is full of stars and I want to explore them
to live among them in an infinity of peace and joy.

But I feel so alive
like a throb of regeneration is filling my veins.
My bloodstream overflows
and my heart has burst.

Tonight is a song, and I am the melody, the harmony, and the rhythm...
but You are the composer.

Commitment Prayer

In your hand I put mine
in your heart I put mine
protection of the innocence
in my soul
and wondrous father of my love

and my life
hold me, hold my tears
and save me from drowning in them
hold up my head and restore me
until I can hold it up myself

I choose Joy.

I give myself to you,
that the actions of people
would have less weight in my heart
that I would be made of your stuff
that heaven would fill my heart

I am not a good friend
nor do I know how to be one
bitterness and jealousy bind me
and try to make me cynical
free me, Jesus.


Free me as I bind myself to you
stronger by the hour
I absorb into you,
never to be recovered to the old me.


Let me dwell in you and on you,
so near to your heart that it becomes part of me
the drum I march to,
the blink of my eyes,
the throb of my head, intoxicating and airy.

Fill my lungs with golden air
made by the trees of heaven
recycled from the mouths of angels
breathed by love himself.


Control me, I submit this
body of clay back to
the creator who alone can give it rest.

Meagre Words

Take my words, meagre offering,
the author of my heart song,
the author of history,
thank you for appreciating my words.

I know not why I was given this gift,
but help me to use it well.

Help me to never become
just another voice, conformed and deformed,
with the same hackneyed phrases,
the same offering, high from emotion,
with no more variety
or depth of thought than a worship song

sung because it’s the popular
and right thing to do here.

Monsters

Don’t let me get lost in the cacophony
of heartless people
pretending to have warm blood and veins
monsters made by shells of selfishness
coated over real humanity
in a coma, unmoving and unmoved.

Monsters fighting endlessly
to be far from the thing
that would send a shockwave to their nearly dead hearts
unsure if awakening their heart
would change their hands and furry feet.

They know not that it would change their eyes;
open them fluttering and blinking
into a world in which
others are not tools to be used,
but rather vulnerable hearts, much like their own.

To be cared for and looked after.
They know not, but somehow,
somehow they yearn for
the shock of true love.

They long for their heart
to be buried deep within the heart of another.
So they chase other monsters,
though true love and life is so close
they rip each other apart
with their claws,
until there is nothing left.

Let me love the monsters,
but protect my heart from their claws.