web analytics

Monday, March 9, 2015

If Guardians

The Israelites waded a mere one-hundred feet per day in a sea of sandy listlessness.
A pillar of conversation by day, and a pillar of intimacy by night guided them into a promise.


God, I am helicopter
 With the timing of an
 Inchworm.

I need your eyes and lips.
The horizon of nothingness expands.
        I've been stripped of my blueprints, fingerprints, and plans.


       The war is waged. By default I love myself more than I love you.
My sin is so thick
I am bed sores and bed scarred.

 You say I am more than lust;

    Refine me, Sacred Heart.

Help me chew on-
Make a meal of
My consequences.
                   
 I beg mercy in metal strips, and wings, and battle wounds to be my defense.
If Your armies are real
  I am asking for them
    To surround me


For just a little while


    So I can get
      Some rest.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Comment