I will have faith.
I have faith.
I will trust.
I trust.
I will pray for God’s power.
I pray.
I will be willing.
Use me –
As I am.
Category poetry
Not My Will
I started the day with a positive attitude.
And then the day happened.
Just one single interaction with someone and all my low self-esteem came gushing forth, insecurities and failures and non-growth, comparing myself to others and it is all getting old and I am not worthy and blah blah blah.
I will have faith.
I will trust.
I will pray for God’s power.
I will be willing.
Not my will, dear Lord, but thine be done.
For Today
My heart is at rest
My troubles lifted
Burdens ceased
For today
Joy, love and peace
My banner shall be
Patience
Allow the bud to open in its own time. Practice patience, and the rose will be revealed.
“But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing”.
James 1:4
Poetry for Therapy
Today I complained. I spoke to a friend wishing happy New Years yada yada, and then I complained. Just the usual midlife crisis complaints as one does. And at some point thereafter my friend responded with some unexpected good life news, and I was happy for my friend, and feeling embarrassed about having complained. Very embarrassed. How unattractive and unappealing it must have seemed. It is so easy to allow the words to tumble out. But from now I will try my very, very best to keep them locked away forever. Except for in poetry. Always poetry. Poetry for therapy.
Empty-Handed
I wanted what I couldn’t have
It got so close I could reach out
And touch all that I couldn’t have
Before finally slipping out my fingers
Leaving me empty-handed and without
I had a friend
We were friends for a long time
But now the worlds have changed –
The skies above my eyes,
And whilst we may still be friends
The clouds are grey.
Pipe Dreams
I was awake and dreaming my
Pipe dreams and then they
Shattered and I was still
Awake and dreaming no
Longer dreams but a
Nightmare.
My Fantasy Worlds
Have popped one by one
Bubbles containing nothing
But air and when they burst
There is nothing there
Just a faint memory
Of fantasy worlds
And stabs of
Reality.
Shadowed Waters
Tight fingers
Grab my neck
I cannot move –
In an iron grip
Shadowed waters
Pull me under
I need!
Air
Poems and Petals 