The laugh in her smile, the quiver of her frown, the tone of her voice, the manner of her speech, the expression in her eyes, the shape of her face, the fullness of her mouth, the curve of her lips, the turn of her neck, the slope of her shoulders, the sweep of her arms, the grace of her hands, the touch of her fingers, the trim of her nails, the fullness of her breasts, the sway of her hips, the length of her stride, and the gentleness of her step perfectly complimented the desires of my heart, and each day I basked in the joy of her presence.
Then she was gone, leaving a void that would not fold itself back into the tapestry of life but stood before me as a yawning chasm of lonely emptiness, haunting me with memories of who she was and what she meant to me, chastising me over my lack of courage to have embraced her more fervently, to have pleased her more passionately, and to have loved her more urgently.
I cried to the heavens to take from me the ache in my heart but the heavens were silent, and I begged the hands of time to ease my pain but the only reply concerning relief from my sorrow, "Not today, perhaps tomorrow."
Monday, July 20, 2009
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Ascent
Murmuring muddled voices
percolate from familiar lairs of sheltered indifference
hidden in the dark, dank cracks and crevices below
mocking this aborted ascent
and coaxing a return to an iniquitous past
and its inconsequential malaise.
Hope and determination
born in the faith from a calling in Jesus Christ
to rise from the shadows and shine in his light,
have become hopelessly entangled in clinging vines of doubt and indecision
now desperately clutching a narrow ledge of fear and uncertainty
and facing an imminent defeat whose only term of surrender
is an abhorrent descent
into that passionless pit of godless existence.
"Climb higher," Christ calls,
his words commanding thoughts
echoing off of heartbeats to the deepest reaches of the soul,
reminding that salvation through his redemptive blood
has secured an undeniable purpose determined at the dawn of all creation,
and as faith finds courage in his strength,
focus returns to the summit
and resumption of the ascent.
percolate from familiar lairs of sheltered indifference
hidden in the dark, dank cracks and crevices below
mocking this aborted ascent
and coaxing a return to an iniquitous past
and its inconsequential malaise.
Hope and determination
born in the faith from a calling in Jesus Christ
to rise from the shadows and shine in his light,
have become hopelessly entangled in clinging vines of doubt and indecision
now desperately clutching a narrow ledge of fear and uncertainty
and facing an imminent defeat whose only term of surrender
is an abhorrent descent
into that passionless pit of godless existence.
"Climb higher," Christ calls,
his words commanding thoughts
echoing off of heartbeats to the deepest reaches of the soul,
reminding that salvation through his redemptive blood
has secured an undeniable purpose determined at the dawn of all creation,
and as faith finds courage in his strength,
focus returns to the summit
and resumption of the ascent.
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