I tread water, yet I have no control, I am washed in these waves that battle for my soul.
My situation is tenuous, perhaps even dire, I gasp for air, but I am growing tired.
Been in these waters for far too long, got used to going under, thinking maybe it made me strong.
But I have been weak, I became what I am not, lost myself in the waters forgetting why I ever fought.
So it is not enough now to simply come up for air, I can tread no longer for the waves have weight I must not bear.
I take a deep breath, I steel my nerves, I set my sights towards land and choose whom I will serve.
I reach solid ground, yet the waters still lap at my skin, I know it’s not enough, so I move further in.
In and away, away from the waves, and now looking back, they seem so much more like a grave.
I lived in death pretending it could sustain; now I grasp at life as I shed my pain.
Tears flow down as reality hits, I see solid rock, and this is where I sit.
I can still see the waves, so I look to the sky; it begins to rain, and once again, I am no longer dry.
Yet this rain is different than the waves that would be my tomb, I feel peace and warmth, I am completely consumed.
This time though, instead of grasping for survival; I sit on this rock ready for revival.
I am revived fully, washed in this rain, the waves no longer in sight, the fog clears my brain.
On a solid foundation, I see clearly; I have all that I need, and it is on this rock I am finally freed.
Freedom, a final thought for this piece, I am free, and yet I still release.
I release my desperate desire for control, I give it up freely, I give God my soul.
Yes, all along God was the rock, the waves my flesh, and so I take stock.
I take inventory now of the things I have learned, I let go of idols and allow a clean heart to yearn.
I yearn now for the One it always should have been, the Lord my God has freed me from my sin.
seasons
Never to be Known
She will never know… never know how I’ve grown.
She will never see the effect she had on me.
She won’t read the lines I was lead to write. She won’t know they kept me up at night.
She won’t feel that passion I poured into these pages, but I still pray for her happiness to grow through the ages.
Another stepping stone of growth and learning, but this time, I’m not even left with the yearning.
This made sense. The pieces didn’t fit, so it’s bittersweet, but I’m not in a pit.
I’m still on a peak staring down at the valleys, I see the forest I’d lost myself in, and now I can rally.
I rally myself, I muster my spirit, I dive into my emotions and allow myself to feel it.
She may never know what these words mean for me to write, but even so, I am happy to bring them to light.
More words bleed out than what I knew I had left, and yet I feel steady. There is joy in each breath.
Words and Walls
You say words can’t pierce through this wall? But what if I write words worthy of making Jericho fall?
Words divined by inspiration from the heavens, words that are overflowing with detailed expression.
I express the feelings that have lain deep and dormant down in my soul, I set them free rather than take control.
So, these are the words that flow from my heart to page, I write them so that I may set the stage.
I cast the parts and design the show, all for a vision of something that can grow.
The curtains come up, and the walls come down all is revealed to an audience that doesn’t make a sound.
On the soundless stage, something new takes place.
Amidst the rubble and dust, the protagonist plays their part, a performer of the heart.
The heart grows stronger and knows what it wants, and so these words can be more blunt.
Blunt and sudden with a booming bellowing voice, the show has started, and so the heart can make a choice.
Do words have the potential to pierce through walls and veils? Or is this another day that words could not prevail?
In one final petition I ask that the performer play their part well. With the world a stage, the heart can certainly leave its shell.
Divided Attention
Can I see the forest for the trees? No, I am lost in the forest. It looks like the sea.
A sea of trees deep in the autumnal season, having lost all their leafs.
And through the bare branches, it is sun, shimmering on sap that sits and shines even when the day is done.
Because the night is not enough to take away this light.
The moon shines through the branches all the same, with starlight a fire flickers that does not burn, that does not maim.
Deep and unyielding, a sea of brown with flecks of silver and gold, the forest is alight, a story that is new yet old.
It is not that I see love in these trees. It is just that I am thankful that for a moment, they shined their light on me.
We are all boulders sitting in the bed of an ever flowing river barley moving as we watch the waters of life pass us by. The people and moments in our life move with the water, slowly ever so slightly eroding pieces of us. These pieces of us, we often don’t notice until they’re already gone. We often try to get our pieces back but we never really can. We can accept, however that in rare beautiful instances a person or a moment rather than take away will become one with us. So we are all a boulder sitting in a river slowly withering away, but we are also conglomerate masses of the people and things that made us who we are. It will often feel like your rock is an island in the river of life where nobody passes you by. We know in contrast that no man is an island, we become a piece of others and some become a piece of us. So, when you feel like you’re falling apart,know that you may be growing just as much, and know that you’re never truly alone. We are shaped by life, and sometimes that feels difficult and terrible to take. Each moment is worth it even through the pain, this life is an opportunity to be shaped into who we are meant to be; but moreover it is an opportunity to help shape others for the better. When the river is rough, your edges feel blunt, and you feel like you’ve been left alone beneath the waves; remember that God made this river and he also made you. The river can be rough, that’s the weight of this life, but it flows into eternity, and there we can all thrive. Here in the river before you make it to the end remember the affect you have on others, help them to seek a better end. Because we all flow into eternity, but the river splits into two paths, only one is good, but both are everlasting.
Ceaseless in Nature
Every day since I’ve begun to write of the tremendous impact you’ve had on my life, I’ve wanted to go into detail on just your eyes.
But the words would not come, for there was too much to say, yet now the words are flowing and crashing like waves.
Just like the waves in you eyes, a seafoam forest speckled by sparkling lights.
Your eyes hold a galaxy fully unknown, yet I am here exploring, trying to know.
When my eyes meet yours my senses are set on fire, the way they shine I’m lost in desire.
A desire to know every emotion they hold, I see something more about to unfold.
They hold your emotion and create emotion in me, they are new life and growth, they are a seed.
A seed to start new, a seed to start again, I watch as it grows out never wanting the experience to end.
They are beauty and peace, yet they are a fiery sea, they ignite as do you, and so I know that those fiery eyes are true.
True in the sense that they create more than they destroy, in the midst of deep sorrow, they are my joy.
I am encompassed by them, sinking in their sea, I am enveloped, surrounded, by an ocean made of trees.
Trees that hold so much color though only one is usually seen, they hold every hue, the brightest and darkest of green.
Yet they are usually so bright, a sunrise sky that covers me, no more clouded vision, I am given sight.
Open skies, galaxies, and trees, I knew this would take many words and though I will, I still do not wish to cease.
She Smiles With The Seasons
A breeze in the summer, under the shade of a tree…she is beauty, she is peace,
A calm that transcends panic, she is vibrant and electric.
A current that flows through every single bone, she is the tranquility that comes with a seldom seen snow.
She is new life and warmth, like the beginning of spring; she is bright and beautiful like the sun without its sting.
As said before, she is like the autumn leaves, many vibrant colors… magnificent and unique.
She is all of the seasons, and you can see them in her smile, a bouquet of every flower, unchanging yet versatile.
Tales of Dylan 