FATIGUE

Weakened fists,

Pleading feet.

I slumped into my chair’s wide open arms,

Soaking in its warmth,

Its cool frame absorbing the stress of today.


The day had been some feat,

And although it’s time to feast,

My lips are too fatigued to eat.

So I close my eyes,

I lock my ears.

Lights out.

Noise out.

I shut the world out.


Then my tongue danced to utter a love letter to my God;

The ritual I’ll never miss:

A little commune,

A little intimacy,

A little singing of my heart to Him,

And I slipped into the sleep He gives.

My dreams welcomed me home.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Running from Him

  I ran Faster I hid Farther I could swear Father won’t see me. Why would He How could He No! Not me. please love another My heart beat Like the hits on the bass drum I scanned with an eagle eye No one Coast clear — I outran Him My chest still drummed I let out a breath as My heart sang My eyes danced He can’t see me Not again But then… Just when I resigned To walk the dark, Back the light, Work like fools Right in my heart He whispered You failed me. Yet… I see you I’m in you And I love you. Regardless.
Read more

My Romance With Fear

  Time seemed to stand still, as though even it was in shock at the monster I must be. I watched the blood flow towards me; maybe it knew who summoned its motion outside its host. The knife lay some centimetres away from his lifeless body. His once six-foot, macho build was going six feet beneath the ground. I couldn’t tell what I felt, except for the horn I was sure I had developed. I really had to be a monster to have slit a man’s throat like a loaf of bread. I watched the blood drop onto his shirt, spreading in a circle. I watched my scary Goliath—a man I once called husband—collapse before me like a bag of rice, lifeless. But unlike David, I wasn’t a victor still. I was still a captive, because I could already hear the sirens blaring in the background, the thump of police boots on concrete. It was only then I let out the scream that had lain in my throat like an Adam’s apple. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaarhhhhhhhhhh! My story actually started five years earlier. I stepped out of the...
Read more

My Church Family (Province of Grace Ministries International)

I strolled around the camp. Glimpses of wounded men, Bleeding youths. Girls confused yet chattering That they knew what’s new. I saw women weeping From the whips of life. I wondered, Why… Again, I rose to stroll around the camp. Some months I counted had gone by. I stopped at the gate. Soldiers at attention, Standing with gaze fixed to the heavens, Like they looked to the hills. Yet— They searched us. Nothing penetrated without permission. I wondered, How… My stroll was disrupted, For each one was busy at a post. I saw soldiers clad with armor, Yet they worked—hands on the plow, None looking back. I feared I was off, So I aligned my steps. Soldier like, I matched too. I wondered, Where… Where was I? What had changed? Whose camp was this? Then I heard it: This was David’s camp, Where broken men are called, And these men are turned soldiers, Leading their captivity captive. This was PGMI — The Place God Makes Men Intentionally. Grace and discipline, Accountable discipleship, These anchor...
Read more