Verses Upon The Flaming Wings Of July

God’s word is not just to be heard and repeated; it is to be breathed, lived, and emulated with each action. — Steve Maraboli

Without You, I could have never walked among the low clouds, perfectly white
in hue and shade
the street looks like an unfinished painting,
perhaps an epiphany just waiting for a passerby to see certain events
through a prism of new light in the story
dear wounded, worn and wanting I am conscious of dampness that comes
before the rain,
of chasms where darker demons dwell in the mind
and now the threads of longing in a chapter waiting to be read are starting
to unwind.

There is tranquility in the hours of early morning, with birds bringing
sweet high notes,
there are many who had come to pry me open
there are many who had come searching for answers that were never present,
as though attempting to clench water into their hands
they promised me that their words were forged in steel
I suppose they never realized you can’t delude light with the threat of darkness
the world
as I know is comprised of shadows and wild patch of woods
that beg to be explored,
you can either step in holding hands with courage or forever be knocked back
by the brutal winds of confusion.

The city has put in new blooms, with flashes of amber and rouge pink
before me the future
behind me the past, I wonder if He can listen to my heart pounding
amidst chaos and din
for it’s an odd and bewildering thing to feel that you don’t belong to any place
and person on earth,
I am determined not to let worries lead me astray from the path
they often come with intentions seemingly untainted and kind.

I am conviction, I am fire, around increasing twilight I am an open book
of prayer

dear wounded, worn and wanting I am conscious of breath coming in episode
let your ruffled souls rise from the ashes
and though dark your dreams remember that dawn is never too far behind
I move on forward without flinching through the sweltering heat
of summer
my faith akin to law engraved in a fledgling heart,
why do you forget that in order to fly we must first forget the ground?
Without You I could have never walked among the low clouds, perfectly white
in hue and shade.


Photo credits: Pinterest

Posted for Midweek Motif @ Poets United

& on Open Link Night @ dVerse Poets Pub