Sometimes,
Faith is stillness in the quiet
When you begin to question
Whether or not
You heard his directions correctly
Before.
When doubts grow loud
In the absence of his voice,
When fear fills the silence,
When the once clear call
Is suddenly less clear
And you cannot discern his purposes,
He is still God.
Hold fast.
Wait.
Worship.
Hope.
Photo by Nazar Hrabovyi on Unsplash
I have feelings about the Oxford comma. Continue reading
Unmatched, unmarred by sin, unshaken, God
Maintains the utmost glory. ‘Fore his face
E’en angels hide their faces. In that place
Corruption is not suffered, cannot trod
The ground made holy by his presence. Hide
Your eyes; gain clarity. Be still and know
That he is LORD o’er all, above, below.
Fear fills us, fear fulfills us: terrified
In tenderness. Unknown yet known; most high;
E’er near; eternally enthroned above
All enemies, all not-gods, perfect love
Perfectly conquers all, never runs dry.
The sun is but a shadow of his light.
No darkness can present a worthy fight.
Photo by Roland Epple on Unsplash
Huge thanks to Brett Dickson for his invaluable insight and encouragement during the writing of this poem.
In a strange way, I feel like profundity is equivalent with difficulty. If a piece of art confuses me, or if a poem baffles me, or if a movie leaves me scratching my head, I assume that what I’m observing is quite deep. I believe there to be a meaning hidden below the surface of the medium, and the entire piece becomes a puzzle to figure out. I consider the small details, I hypothesize about possible hints, and I attempt to read between the lines to unravel the mystery hidden in the uncertainty. I noticed this recently when I read T. S. Eliot, or when I listened to Coldplay, or when I watched Eraserhead. I found myself incredibly intrigued (and, at the same time, incredibly confused) by the hiddenness and seeming vagueness of the art. I also found myself inspired by these stories and lyrics, wishing I could write something so deep. Continue reading
as i learn to walk 