P.S. I Love You

Dear Daughter,

I have called you from the depths of depravity. Where your whole vast expanse of love, life, and laughter spill out among the throngs of your pain and fear. My intense desire to uphold your frame and speak truth over you keeps me in pursuit of your soul. Can you hear me calling?

I have seen you through many eyes and seen you before an array of merciful people. My mercy seat has been waiting for you to rest and take your comfort within Me. Come love, Come.

The creative washing the wisp-full pouring out of, so you can become part of, is worth every moment. Singing the true glories and dancing the warrior ways of our friend the Holy Spirit, I foreshadow the Great Feast you are welcome to dine at. Dance little one Dance.

I am not encumbered by the barriers of man nor laden by the grief of a hope deferred soul. In fact I can hold more if you entrust your burdens to me. Let it Go. Cast them off.

Trust the daring drive within you to become everything you dream. See to it you be yourself on purpose and take honor in all you accomplish in my Name. You are not a mistake Daughter. Your failures are being made right. Even Now.

Sincerely,
Papa.

P.S. I Love You.

Choices

notches rich record the time
of ripples reaching
of vast horizon
crippled heart drives its mark
of winding words
of crying hope
downcast eyes say the truth
of darkened depth
of this grey love
choices grab the wasted dreams
as I pull them back in

Pandora's Box

She opens the box as sound skims the breeze
Skipping in time with the chords of life
She steps on the pulse within
Licking flames encumber her steps
Lavished sparks kiss her lips
Leaving time behind she runs
Deep below the shadows
Down where waters leap wild
She connects with raw beauty
Underneath her skin

False Anchor

Swathed within a tangent illuminating my fears I remember. The pervasive sensations make their claim as I recall the tremors. Forking from their centre the emotions wrench without mercy into the vast canvas of my person. I am motionless.

Thoughts tumbling beside one another making me sick as I connect the dots. The marking stones of my story tell me something greater. Something I do not yet understand. The complete comprehensive sums that describe who I am today are not in the right order. I feel random.

I know there is reason for these new revelations as I brave the memories before me. Why I quake while being disconnected and run from whom some say are made to love. Wandering barren in the quarrel of my choices I tempt to land this sinking body. I let go of false anchor.

Calculated advances invade my frame. Seasoned admissions begin to speak without my permission. They pierced the heart and quenched this life. They break the camel’s back and keep pressing. Detailed attack to silence overwhelms me as recollection introduces itself.

Facing backward I walk parallel within my dreams getting nowhere quickly. The horizon unwilling to meet me on even terrain I scream for answers. Why wrestle this child’s soul into the darkness to fend for herself? I keep my eyes looking forward while my nightmares nudge me back.

Satisfied not the clock chimes in order without end. I pray my pain is not written within the same signature. Determined to rebut the chill of frosty touch I debrief my limbs in hopes to walk ahead again. Connected to my mind and seemingly defined as whole. Although I am forgiving I do not stop remembering.

New Signature

Intricate whips of rainbows envelope the space between my truths. Twisting my observations while enlightening my perspective. Bursting feelings liven this heart to move towards the depth of my compass. Shaping my existence. Unfolding each limb from within I step, I dance, I become. I am.

Wandering moments cross the intersections of this soul these memories washing away residue. Chiseling my layers and assumptions I am more satisfied. Bitter barbs of pain decline their invitation and break the laws of gravity. I spin to a new signature.

The diction of my spirit quickens and the nuances of my expression shift boldly. My mind is more mine yet offered to one and to all. The quills of my impressions leave a lasting mark. The stains on my hands are not hidden.

Tiny tips of joy leave a legacy as I dare challenge sorrow. Swallowing my pride and hanging my heart on the line. Tempted to remain motionless I ask questions. The answers do not paint the perfect dream. I keep looking. Wrapped and spun richly I am surrounded like a butterfly before its first flight.