Who He Says I Am

I'm one of those people,
who thinks things through
and then thinks them again,
picking apart each word,
each motive behind each word,
along with every tone,
ups and downs in voices
to piece together some knowledge
about something that's likely
not even there.
I take that "based on nothing" knowledge
and stir it around in my little head,
imposing it on myself
like a doctor, writing a prescription
until it takes over.
And it's only when I realize
that this little seed has been planted
for no reason at all,
that I try to uproot it
to replace it with truth.
But it's like trying to reattach
a lock of hair, after its been cut;
there is no sure way of undoing it.
If only I realized
that I am who I am
totally aside from any one else's
words, thoughts, feelings, experiences,
and saw truth
in who He says I am.

I will long to see the truth,
in who He says I am.

Flying Conditions

The eye already knew
what the heart was leaning towards, 
and when that desire was beheld, 
the mind could hardly conceive it. 
There had to be secrecy involved, 
because if the mouth found out, 
the tongue would become traitorous, 
and give everything away. 
This inkling, this heart-stir, 
could go one of two ways: 
it could fall like a helpless robin from the nest
or fly away into the warm summer sun
but only in its proper season. 
So the eye is sure to be careful, 
while the heart guards itself, 
and the mind simply decides, 
to keep it's mouth shut
until the spring rain and summer heat
make for the most amiable flying conditions.

Held Up

He's held up 

by what seems to be

his own thoughts. 

Racing and whirring, 

like the wind 

over the flat fields. 

He has choices

but none of them are easy 

either way, things will change. 

She's held up

by what seems to be 

her own fears. 

Rushing and stirring 

her poor little heart, 

like rain on young flowers. 

She has a voice, 

but holds silence, 

because speaking up never worked before. 

They sit side by each 

and say nice things, 

yet all the while 

the things they want to say 

go again, unsaid. 

They're held up. 

Now and Then...

I like to think about how back in the century when this castle was built, it was a normal building. Nothing grand, nothing fancy or special. Today we celebrate it as marvelous and fantastic. I just find that interesting...