Waiting for the Dawn to Come

Cool ground lays beneath my weary feet
as I rest beside the dying embers of a heart-like fire
In the mirrored stillness the only light
is sprinkled against the tarry canvas above me
barely reminding of what brightness should be
It is frightening to be enveloped in blackness
and makes one weary to stand watch for so long
In the distance I can make out the mourning’s call
a forgotten stirring drawing souls to stand
an echo within forcing hearts to prepare for a new day
A voice crying out in the wilderness helping to
make way for the brightness that only the sun may bring
A place where the dourness of the dark can no longer hide
broken places inside us and brings the choice of healing
At what cost, to lose the anonymity of shadows
and the feeble heat of that remnant flame
embracing with new breath the shine that gives new life
truth of the day driving out the isolation of night
a new world, a new man given freedom, a new sight
all from the rising of the sun

 

7:35 am
1 April 2012

Spaces

All the keys aren’t the same.
Without the black the white would not ring.
Steps forward and backward sing
But not without the spaces in-between.

Conversations ebb and flow.
Without the pauses understanding fails.
Word by word the truth pales
But not without the spaces in-between.

Relationships give and take.
Without forsaking those we know.
Walking alongside, striding and so
But not without the spaces in-between.  

The spaces are thoughts that intertwine.
Beliefs that transform from within.
Divine restoration, a freedom from sin.
The spaces are changes and chances to be seen
But not without the spaces that redeem.

 

11:20 pm
2 March 2012