With every grueling inch I climb this upon this mountainside
He stands always just nearby to help, to point, to guide.
And lifts me up again after the next time I backslide.
(Which likely was a consequence of my shortsighted pride)
This climb gets steeper yet though I've been at it now for years.
Slipping frequently despite the lessons and the tears.
My fallen state a blindfold when the tough terrain appears.
The same missteps recurring; I react to my old fears.
I try to keep my focus on that heavenly plateau
Beside the mountain spring from which refreshing waters flow.
Where I'll recline in grass more soft than any that I know
And, resting, feel His Spirit as the gentle breezes blow.
But often times this load I carry seems to weigh a ton
And thinking of plateaus and grass I look up and see none.
Then, seeing every step I'd taken was a foolish one,
I drop it, let Him carry me, and say "Thy will be done."
Friday, May 29, 2015
Friday, May 22, 2015
A whisper floats across my brain,
While tickling my mind.
I think I'll have this thought again,
But doubt that I will find
The same feeling that I just had.
Perhaps, a different peek.
Its not that this is good or bad,
Just that each thought's unique.
So even when I think I know
What I have said (or thought),
Its best to act immediately,
Or as soon as I am ought