Monday, 17 March 2014

Getting off

Wait,
God.

Tonight I send you my words
I will come 

No pain piercing up through the heart
From every step I take 
Will stop me from coming 

Dragged along will be the guilt and sins
Turned into fruits of my offering 
As I sit here learning to give life me 

Quietly I stay obedient to the path beneath 
For the swamp and fire to let go 
Whence my palms gently touch it

With that I shall come
But wait,
God
I send you my words
I will come

Wednesday, 5 March 2014

Silent guilt in the cold January


As birds,
They've returned
Cozily in each other's 
Wanting this guilt pardoned