Broken Birdsong

I imagined him a thousand times And every single time, he walked away Saw it coming; never even cried Experience said love could never stay They couldn’t convince me otherwise Oh, how I wanted to believe their song But each time someone leaves, something dies And they were the ones that proved themselves wrong “I told you so … goodbye.” Their words grew stale, then dissipated ‘Til the rare response that hurt more than silence Cut deeper than anticipated “Was,” “knew,” “had” – the bitter sting of past-tense “Love” becomes “once loved,” “stay” becomes “long gone” I lose all childlike faith in forever Along with the instinct to hold on “Wake up, heart! Wake up, wake up – whatever What help were you anyway?” I decided that I was worthless And then You came for me, Lord – You sought me out You chose me when I was still heartless Your wild love opposing each fear and doubt “I don’t want You!” I screame...

I reached towards heaven To cover Your eyes Ever since I was seen I've wanted to hide And ever since I hid I've wished they would see -- Beggars, saints and scholars -- And deem me worthy Camouflaged, I lay there Begging for notice In shame, doubt and fear To be seen like this To be caught in my sin Exposed as myself Naked broken poser No doll on a shelf Look away, look away Away from me, Lord Yet You don't shift Your gaze You don't say a word I realize it was You - That it was Your sight That I tried to remove Yet craved morn and night Put my roots in darkness Ran rather than fight As if this was progress I was made for the light Look away, look away Away from me, Lord Yet You don't shift Your gaze You don't say a word I dare look up again You're somehow nearer Your love won't look away It's ne'er been clearer Where are my accusers? Where are my idols? All of them were scattered And here I stand, w...

When the muse strikes May these hands of mine Ne'er be found idle Nor waiting for lightning When a song moves my soul May I not let it slip Moving on to another Who might treasure it When my heart gives a stammer As if catching its breath May I still myself enough To explore the cause May I embrace confusion Until it becomes clarity May I never neglect the wonder Never forget its origin May I always pause when The light invades my skin May I always exhale Then begin once again May the wind of change No longer be my enemy But rather, a strange partner In a brand new dance May I sink beneath the waves Only to emerge again, new May the broken and tainted Become a stained glass window May I let the light shine through it

Your love, has met me where I am You see, where Your chosen bride has been You know, just how far I ran Yet You come, and You choose me once again You have not forsaken me Your love has not rejected me You are always here with me You pursue me when I flee No, You have not forsaken me Your blood, has washed my sin-stained hands Your grace, gave Your bride a thousandth chance You breathe, and a flame begins to dance Purify, my love in Your romance You have not forsaken me Your love has not rejected me You are always here with me You pursue me when I flee No, You have not forsaken me Oh, how I've longed For the fullness You provide Lord, I have searched You alone can satisfy Oh, how I've wandered Now I'm coming back to You Meet me here, Jesus Do what only You can do Oh, I'm coming back to You I'm coming back Oh, You never left me Though I left a thousand times Oh, You are steady You have never left my side You hav...

(written August 19th, 2014) Speak to me I cannot breathe Without Your Truth Or Your mercy I am undone Unworthy Unspun I'm breathless Stammering In the face Of my King God, increase Make less of me Spend this frail life For Your glory It's worth it Worth all the pain Worth every tear And each heartbreak Grace mingled With faith and love Pours over me And into me By Your blood Your sacrifice You spent Your life To save my soul Mind is blown Heart rent in two My every breath Sheer gift from You Undeserved I pull away Cannot accept Yet You pursue Your kindness And Your great Love They bring me back And fill my cup No longer Am I empty My self traded For Your glory

In an Instagram world You’re a Polaroid; A fresh classic at heart, Full of life and color Undeterred by the norm, You brim with good vibes; Spreading tailor-made rays Of sunlight through the trees Your laugh is outrageous - I strain just to hear The tear-bringing joy sound That bursts forth from your frame Yes, that is the image In you, Polaroid, That the focus is on, To best capture the light Mirth, it forms in your eyes, And now in my mind, As I take mental shots Of you rolling with glee Oh, my Polaroid friend, With your flashing smile, And those belly laugh jokes, You spread love instantly One snapshot of you, child, I share with the world That you expose to me In your own awesome way {this poem is also an entry to a contest. if you'd like to help me out, find me here & share from that page. you're a beautiful human being, & I'm grateful.}

[maybe the labels cued you in, or maybe you're an old hat at this, & remembered when I told you  of my intent to post these poems. These are pre-healing poems, typed by a post-healing poet, & the perspective is profound & overwhelming to me. This poem, specifically, was so vital at that time. It was a battle. I wept over it. I sketched it. I breathed these words for weeks, & now here they are, & the hope is so much more real to me.] (written August 14th, 2014) Can't get to sleep Cannot wake up Confused, I weep With empty cup Endless cycles Lost trains of thought Shame recitals Battles un-fought Strength all but gone Can't move my lips Hold sketch I've drawn In fingertips I know the words to pray Can't bring myself to say them How can I feel this way, Knowing all I'm saved from? Do You feel rejected As I do? Confused and dejected, I doubt Truth Why do these things feel real When they're false? Were I dead, co...

(written July 23rd, 2014 - almost exactly a year ago) Ink-smudged hands betray me Proof that I'm still fighting My thoughts can be rambunctious I don't quite know where I am I'm a finger puppet Keep forgetting my lines I can't seem to stop it Mimicking roles not my own I want out of the gray To stark lines of paper Where I have found a way To stitch together my thoughts With a black pen as thread Here I can find my voice Preaching inside my head Odd, how now they all listen So observe my stained hands Tremble at what you know Who you know that I am "What has her pen done this time?" I underline the Scriptures Claiming promises as mine I pray to the Creator Writing His words next to my own I make art through the pain Writing poems, sketching Proof that I still remain You have not defeated me My God sees the darkness As I view blank paper He readies His brushes And paints with His light and grace His hands are twice as ...

(written June 26th, 2014) The music storms within me Strains I can't express I am a chained melody These chords left unpressed My soul aches with feeble hands When that one song plays And my brain mimics the band The hurt lasts for days Years And that's when I know That's when I decide It hurts That's the nature of the thing Maybe It hurts me more than most Me, with my trembling heart Me, with my pain-filled hands No one thought I could do this Or should Not even me Especially not me No one except The One Plus one. I tried not to hear her and the Infinite And found myself immeasurably outnumbered With a guitar in those hands Call me crazy? Get in line. I'm first. I strum with bum hands Until I think I've gone mad Or maybe I always have been And for once I'm doing something sane.

(written June 7th, 2014) Oh rambunctious mind When will you unwind? You toss & you turn Like this body of mine You pound in my head As if you're filled with dread From each dream that lurks Between blanket & bed We both cry in pain: 3 a.m.'s new refrain Until God soothes us & sings His song again {this is the first of several poems I will be posting here; poems written during some of the hardest parts of my battle with Lyme disease. If you're interested in this story  & my journey, I have created a corner of the blog just for writings that stemmed from it. Check out the label: Lyme Disease Journey.}

(written June 8th, 2014) Bitter tongued Weak handed Exhausted At the thought of waking up It came down to this Fragile heart Weighted mind Lonely soul Waiting for an ounce of hope Can't live in my strength So He came Lifted me Weak made strong Satisfied in His embrace Helpless no longer His power Made perfect In weakness This symphony of mercy Melody of grace

I almost cry Such foolish tears I should not cry I know better Tears held inside Blur my vision Logical thought Is beyond me Changes I face Overwhelm me Mindful of grace I can still breathe Where He leads me I will follow Though the pain ebbs And the tears flow Thy will be done Yours and not mine I count the cost I choose You still For holiness Means more to You Than happiness And I'm convinced That You're faithful E'en though I fall You still hold me And comfort me I know joy comes With the morning Your mercies dawn And they blind me And then one day I will look back See Your grace, and Tell the story

(Photo by Anna Hart ) (Linking up with  Holley  Gerth  here ) Tears fall steadily after the trauma If you came to grips with it, at least Those around you whisper things like "drama" Each of us faces a diff'rent beast You didn't expect it to hurt so bad Or you did and you wanted proved wrong Lost are the logical thoughts you once had Something so simple lasts for so long Mascara lines down paling cheeks Trembling hands clutch bathroom sink How long since you have felt this weak? "Give her water," drink, drink, drink --Inhale Exhale-- Coherent thoughts Routine and necessity numbing the pain You are responsible - think of the gain This too shall pass And it does You do not have to tell yourself to breathe But you do and it's steady; a habit Discover the feeling of sweet relief Tell people it was hard, but you made it But you don't talk about that first moment Five minutes, maybe? Or longer Are we counting th...

(Photo by Anna Hart ) How many days until the photo shoot? I counted to ten then I paused. How many blemishes clutter my brow? I counted to ten then I stopped. What number of hairs have slipped from my bun? I guessed one hundred then was done. So many insecurities fill my heart, I might as well count them by light-years. How red my skin turns when I am embarrassed. How my voice sounds when recorded. Or any bit of me captured on cam'ra. The list could go on for forever. in-se-cu-ri-ties : ( plural noun) Things we despise about ourselves, Yet wouldn't be ourselves without.  The things we cringe at in mirrors, And our friends smile at in pictures. We wonder what they see in us; Why such nice people stick around And watch us, the misfits, stumble. Which one of us is truly blind? Better yet, who can truly see? Whose vision dare we rely on? Our selves, who see us ev'ry day, And always verbally wounds us? ...

{an original poem} even when your hair looks a fright even when you give up on Me even when you cry alone in the night --I wonder when you’ll finally see that even when wrinkles adorn you even when your eyes look haunted even when you’re not a size two --My love remains undaunted and even when hormones undo you even when you have lost your place even when grey skies won’t turn blue --there is still even more grace so even when you cannot hear Me even when rain falls from above even when you can’t see clearly --there’s no reason to doubt you’re loved ---- (via  Holley Gerth )