Facing a birthday I dont want to have; what legacy would I leave if today was my last?
When all my days are accounted for, how many did I waste? I look to the mirror with an awful taste.
I blame the man I see once again for all that I’ve felt, “why didnt you do better”, I scream I belt!
You could have been more if you just put in the effort, so why did you wallow in such foolish, false, comfort.
You disappoint with each day that you live, you’ve accomplished nothing, you have nothing to give.
You’ve amounted to a failure and I dont think you’ll ever be more, you’ve reached new depths, found a new floor.
You disgust me in ways I can’t possible express, if you weren’t already so low I would demand you feel like less.
You’re a hollow, shriveling, waste of a man, In all your life you’ve never taken a stand.
You fall endlessly, you fail tremendously,… yet I see you get to your feet ever relentlessly.
You smile back no matter how I beat you down, you walk forward refusing to let me drown.
Another in the mirror stands by your side, I know I’m not alone, I know in whom I can confide.
Christ my foundation, my ever present friend, you demand fondness for my reflection, you bid me to stand.
So stand I must, but first I kneel, to pray at your feet is to find peace in your will.
Another year that felt wasted, but In your hands I’m made whole, I see your plans unfolding, your glory the goal.
Because if even I can be used then anyone can be saved, I forgive the man in the mirror thankful for the path that’s been paved.
muse
Fields of Praise
The greatest muse I will ever know, present in every word that I ever wrote.
No other love I can ever aquire, no other thing could pull me from the mire.
I have been lost through years of mediocrity, filled with nothing but animosity.
I sought inspiration in anything that would offer, though I gained nothing… what did it all profer?
I have fallen in multitudes, I have fallen in droves, yet still you seek me out to lay in your groves.
I graze in your green fields where I prosper in peace, somehow out of the wolve’s mouth I see myself released.
Even still, I run from your fields, fleeing from my fealty, expecting better quicker yields.
I seek things in my time and lack trust in your perfection, when I do not receive an immediate answer I pick my own direction.
I think myself wise enough to choose my own path, I find failure ad nauseam, and I am deserving of your wrath.
Yet instead I find mercy, salvation in the blood; by great sacrifice I am yours, when I had thought the gate shut.
By all rights I should be exiled from your pastures, yet even as I run you chase after all the faster.
No escape from this love, and so there is a desperation to write, to glorify God, and to bring the nations to light.
So use me where you have me, let the big picture be clear, whatever your will I certainly shall adhere.
I will go, I will stay, I will listen, and I will speak; whatever you ask, I now know it is only you that I was made to seek.
Timely Inspiration
A summer time muse inspires all the same, shortly, sweetly, but still in frame.
The picture is set, unchanging for a time, she is simply a beauty that brings my words to life.
She needn’t know, she needn’t hear, but at just the right moment she did appear.
How to decide when a moment is right? My words come forth, I don’t have to fight.
Waking or sleeping I can see her brilliance, so I wake this morning with new found resilience.
I wake and feel alive, I wake with inspiration, I wake, and I can’t help but to write of my elation.
To meet this morning with her as the vibrancy that fills my mind, it all feels so clear, life feels so kind.
A kindness from life that reminds of the tenderness she exudes, so gentle, so sweet, though life can be so crude.
So I meet this morning differently than in the past, thankful to have met her, even if inspiration doesnt last.
