Fragment

I found this little fragment in an old journal, I think I'd like to expand on the thought a little bit. It ends on a slightly hopeless note which I don't think is what I intended. Or maybe I did. I'd like to see where it could take me though.


We are released from
our prisons and tombs
So used to silence, we
cannot sing
So used to walls, we
build a container for ourselves
"to the glory of God"
-we cannot go out at all.

Seed

My flickering memory
makes me love things
that never were.
When evening light
filters through the sky
All is golden, soft, hopeful
Echoes of love call to me
pulling my heart to you

But the fragments of my life
are jagged
heavy
I gather them carefully
avoiding the pain
Every shard scattered, hidden
deferring critical mass

Love shrivelled
I shake the pods-
is there a seed to plant?

Open Up Your Doors

Here is an older poem, a triplet if you will, written during a spare in Grade 11, I believe. See, I did do productive things in high school, just not the ones my teachers wanted me to do...

Open up your doors to receive the love of God
The hinges are so stiff, rusted by your tears
His anointing is the oil to loosen them.

The End of Blog Silence

Ok, it's time for me to climb back onto my blog-box! I have been struggling, writing, healing, and not blogging... but having the pain lift is giving me a chance to pull myself together, and share some poems. This poem is about the pain, written in the early spring of 2008.

There is a great stone
inside me
I pound against it
with a surge of rage-
and hate
breakers of will
foam, and draw back
dissolving into myself
that which I despise
becoming hard:
And how do you strike that stone?

You choose
between the holy and common,
light and darkness
draw water from stone
His voice echoes,
"COME!"
almost lost to me
My heart throbs, bleeds, curses, hides
-I want to be drawn near
but am poisoned-
And I find it hard to choose,
control, mind
I remain, for now
cold.