Animosity
My perplexity
A redundant thought
Some small worries fraught
Heart-torn and bleary
Blinded and weary
Sentences framed
Tongue is now aimed
Give me discretion
Show me my lesson
Diminish my fears
Wipe away my tears
I can't understand
But I won't demand
Please Lord, give me sight
Let me be alright
I want to trust You
Your promises true
Delight in Your will
Heart of mine, be still
Look up for the Light
His love gives us sight
[I wrote this as a novel-length Facebook status to celebrate an anniversary, and thought I would share it here! <3]
Crickets and fans sound in my ear
I wait for dawn's rays to appear
But pain cannot be kept at bay
I try to push the fog away
And onwards through the haze I see
That sleep may make its way to me
And then the beast draws near again
Insomnia is labeled "sin"
It's dreaded force to me denies
Blessed sleep and still it decries
That I must be awake at night
While rest is scared away by sight
Foolishness clings
Like fleas upon my wings,
Golden feathers warmed by the sun,
And it bites with compassionless fang
Beneath downy breast, a pang
Upon my back, does it cling
Burying sharpened beak into rustled feathers.
Plucking some but grasping at others,
Mistakes a hot bed of straw I lie upon.
Dirt flies as affected by desperation,
Wild flapping of pained agitation,
Biting nuisances with vicious minds.
Foolishness clings
Like fleas upon my wings,
Fools gold glittering duly in the sun.
World, I heard the lyrics that you sing
I’ve felt the pain that false love brings
I know the dark of depths of woe
I’ve seen the scars that few will show.
World, even music breathes your lies
Says hope’s sun sets in paradise
That sin’s allure’s your only happiness
But cannot reach eternal bliss.
World, your hope is fleeting, slipping fast
Your art reflects it; but, alas,
Your billions of feet tread the broadened path
That holds destruction in its grasp.
So I'm currently reading through the Psalms, and their musicality always brings delight. When reading Psalm 19, the rhythm seemed particularly poetic to me, and then I read verses 9 and 11, which almost rhyme:
The fear of the LORD is clean, enduring for ever: the judgments of the LORD are true and righteous altogether.
Moreover by them is thy servant warned: and in keeping of them there is great reward.
Black breasted bird flies faster
Than the rose winged finch,
The latter not fit for fighting,
Both unaware of my curious watch,
My cataloging of colors kept secret.
Birds of a feather fly together
But I do not know how to fly that high
Or how to busy myself with the sky
When the urgency of lying keeps me in my coup,
A restless birdwatcher just waiting.
Now I ponder and wonder why
A man thinks best to take his life
Thinks to end his conscience' strife
His hopeless fingers grip the knife
There is no love to make him thrive
It hurts to breath; to be alive
He's lost his faith, he's lost his drive
It is not worth the pain to strive
It's become a matter of time
Because of this he starts the climb
From conscience to justify crime
But then he hears a quiet rhyme
If you ask someone to prove to you that evolution is true, you might hear something like this:
“Antibiotic resistant bacteria show evolution in action.”
“The fossil record shows the evolutionary progression of primitive animals into complex ones.”
“The homology of the vertebrate limb proves the common ancestry of vertebrates.”
If you were to then ask someone to prove to you that creation is true, they might list you some of these evidences:
“Antibiotic resistant bacteria show genetic diversification within a bacteria kind.”
The past year of my life has sped away from me. I’m sure many people have months like that—the ones that bleed into one another, so when you go up to the calendar to check the date, you realize you have two rows of boxes to cross off, two rows of appointments and quickly-jotted reminders that you didn’t even need.