Sunday, September 13, 2015

Thoughts Lately

I've been thinking a lot lately about the power of words as well as the power of belief.  And the power of connection, but that is kind of another story (as you can see from the previous post).  Sometimes I get so trapped into thinking about me and myself and my problems with my four walls and my heart just sinks.  I realized this week how far I have plummeted and that it really hurts, but that is OK.  As I was processing my feelings about it all, this poem just sort of flowed from it.  I don't really consider myself a poet and have not labored over this one enough to have it clearly convey precisely what I'm looking for, but I wanted to share it.

Rebuke

Huddled, peering, until now
blanketed by familiar dimness.
Living in fear obliviously, unintentionally, unawares,
Until you, in a stated observation, shine a light on my cowering frame and force me to see my shaking in the shadows.
I resist, resent, recoil,
an animal fighting to keep things the way they are, focused on the pain of change and seeing
no kindness in your outreach.  I'm content with how I was,
even if it means I was plummeting.
Falling from what I once was and hoped and felt and loved.
I knew that I has slipped, but did not realize how fast I was going.
At least I grew numbed to the cold and deaf to the whistling wind.
The change you spark hurts, like pins and needles,
incessant, inescapable, insistent.
You've yanked off the blankets and until I get up and do something,
I am no longer at ease.
Sharing my burden with you makes it feel heavier, more real and weighty,
as though acknowledgement had granted it actuality.
Yet with the weight I heave on my shoulders, my heart heaves relief
and rekindles hope at the memory of connection.
Yes, that hope hurts.  But, oh, how that hope causes in the heart rejoicing, remembering, regaining,
reviving.  


Another Witness

One of my favorite ideas to discuss with people is how God shows up unexpectedly in their lives. Whether its new thought while being still, ...