careless conversations

what's life like from behind Your eyes?

I carry my curiosity within me -

always

who wouldn't wonder,

You who wander wordlessly -

a salient soul,

and conversation creeps carelessly

to the tip of my tongue

though I've surmised,

You have not many words -

but wisdom

I wish to sit by Your tree

drink from the spill of Your mind -

enlighten me

there is so much I long to know

most of all

You

would You listen to my careless conversation?

and,

in midnight whisperings

bare Your soul

to me?

This is about a yearning for intimacy.  Being able to sit with God and just ramble on about anything and everything that's going on in your head and/or life, knowing that your Daddy is with you listening, even caring enough to hear about your most nonsensical thoughts.  It's also about coming to a place of hearing His voice and His heart, getting to know Him in such a personal way only to be gained from spending time in His presence.

Negatives

yesterday the rain was beautiful

I'm supposed to

know

how life goes

how things work out

or the not of it

I'm supposed to have all the answers

but instead I listen to the insistence of the drops

I stand in the drench

and I soak

spongy me

I take all that you subconsciously give

and I grow fat

heavy

leaving a trail of wet

where I go

me broken vessel as I am

have yet to learn

how to contain

that which should be sacred

forgive me,

for if I hurt you

it might be from a place of confusion

I'm supposed to know how things go,

but I'm still learning about life

and myself

the all of me

but also

the not

that I am

When I started to write this poem it was to focus on the negatives, as the title indicates.  It, however, grew into something much more than just a complaining about the not of things.  And in the process of writing I got to a point where I realized that its time for me to learn to accept myself, perceived shortcomings included.  This is a continuing journey for me.  Everytime I learn something new of myself I get to choose whether it shall become a positive  or a negative.

Patience

another day -
and I'm counting still.

how many more of these,
etchings,
do I need?

each scratch on the walls
of my soul,
screams,
a testimony of
this prison build
through my
impatience

and only
comes freedom
when letting go

see?

Today was again one of those days where I was so frustrated with my inability and impatience, wanting things that I know should wait.  And so I pace in my head, shaking my fists, when really what this impatience is doing is constricting me, robbing me of freedom to let go and let God.  I was reminded of this poem, which I wrote sometime last year when I went through a similar kind of impatience.  Guess I wrote this poem then to remind me now to not ever forget Gods timing is perfect and putting our trust in Him frees us.