Meanwhile

As you find yourself

Chasing after your dreams

Bringing life to your desires

There’s a meanwhile

That encircles you

Our Creator, Our God

He knows best

He wants for us

What will exceed

Our highest expectations

Dear one,

Fret not,

Over what’s on the other side of the fence

But in the meantime

Floating in the meanwhile

Be content, and also ready yourself

For a forever blessing

When the going gets tough

When the going gets tough

There and then

A pouring, of what we’re made of

No one looks at the bird in flight

To make mention of its fatigue

But let same bird see a falling

Poor bird, with ruffled feathers

When the going gets tough

You keep going, soaring high like the bird

Till you meet ground

Poor fellow, with a few hiccups

You’ve seen a falling?

Get up, you forlorn one

And try again, that you may fly

To heights you once knew

Anticipating

There, there, my love

See how the gap bridges in

Distance is fading, time is nigh

The genesis of our union,

One full of awe and purpose

It’s happening, I see you soon


The giddiness of potential

Oh, what an unfolding, we behold now

The realization of loving and being in love

Thus far we have come

Thus far the Lord has brought us

The Lord has been good and faithful


Anticipation is an understatement

See my body, ever so eager

Arms mimicking an embrace

My shoulders, they prepare,

A resting place for your head

And my heart, ever jumpy like an anxious puppy


We have known for a while

That we’re worth each other’s time

We’ve cultivated a garden

That bears fruits of love

To say I love you is not enough

But I’m forever thankful that we found each other

Pockets

A day at a time

A tear that will dry

There is a reason,

There is a season

But still there is despair

A hug to say all is fine

A word of encouragement

To calm a racing mind

But there will still be that moment

Hands in pockets, and emptiness felt

Such is a revisiting sorrow

That comes in waves

Such is a daunting anxiety

That comes uninvited

Such is the guilt felt

For shifting the mood

So I ask that you bear with me

You jolly soul, best friend, confidant

One day it may be well

One day the pockets may be filled

With something other than emptiness

Something worth remembering,

Something that will carve a smile

The Little Things

The little things

Do make the difference

It has taken some years

But the eyes now see this


Some fancy jewels

But she, a reading chair

For the lustre many seek after

Is second to a great novel


The little things

Do make the difference

Like a bowl of macaroni and milk

To appease the hunger pangs


Some prefer take out

But she, a home cooked meal

Because temporary delicacies

Wear out this body, her temple

Inspired By Thaxted

Dawn sweep away the perils

That chided me in sleep

Praying and crying out, though nasal

My Saviour, He hears me weep


Turned on side, pillowing my fears

The stillness, so loud, envelops

Reminded of a hymn to repress the tears

Gathering courage, to never give up hope


The day is bursting through

And the remnants of night, they fade

Flee away you woe, perhaps one or two

For today we choose joy, and will not trade

Blues

In a world of chaos

Some are choosing their blues

The big ones, the little ones

And they ponder in recluse

So be wary and considerate

That you know not their fate

For some have slept

Only to wake and walk

Walking, but not existing

For some have dreamt

A thousand dreams, yet still sulk

Moping in misery

And for some, they are hoping

For a glimpse of a miracle

Hands clasped tightly

As they mumble prayers of petition

And as for the writer,

She cries out for reassurance

Tonight, feeling weighted more

By the littlest of blues

Tower

Tower of refuge

They say You are

But to get to You,

Is going to take some effort

Lord be my helper

As I find my way to You


Tower of restoration

I’ve heard You are

But I’m deceived,

By the people so few

Lord quench the lying voices

That stay manipulating my thoughts


Tower of Purpose

Stay right where You are

Because I’m not losing You this time

Be it bend or bump on the way

I’m coming to You Lord

Sometime between sunset and sunrise

Night of…

Night of laments

So why do I see the stars?

For every mistake, a choice I made


Night so contoured

Why do I sense hope?

The haze, slowly fading into the horizon


Night, of…restoration

Certainly must be

Regrets are in the distant

Someday

Someday, worried one

You’ll find the light

Someday, wretched one

You’ll be on the other side


Through the swampy marsh

Over the land mines

Past the naysayers

Beyond any obstacle


Someday, somehow

You’ll rejoice, where the light resides

How many more sighs

Gone are the hours of yesterday

And dawn, knocks behind the window pane

Before we let her in,

There are some matters to resolve

A worrisome heart and a pondering mind


Loud is the silence

But louder is The Voice

Beseeching and reassuring,

That we worry not about the morrow

And spare some minutes to rest


But stubborn as we are,

Owing to our human nature

We toss, turn and fret

And try to reconcile with hope,

With one question taunting, “How many more sighs, Lord ?”

The Best

The best is yet to come

It wasn’t today

Nor was it yesterday

Perhaps, a morrow sooner


The best is yet to come

I tell myself every day

Someday, one day

The waiting time, shortening


The best is yet to come

Said gleefully, because…

Who knows, it may very well be

Right after this utterance

Doubt

Babies, pure till they meet the world

But what is and isn’t doubt, before it’s stripped ?

We only then will know

When the medium that bears it

Is cast away


Drumroll, drumroll please…


I give you, present to you, the benefit of doubt

Let the innocence of the white snow

Make all seem without flaw

Let their footsteps

Reveal a sense of direction


But in reality

There is a story to every footstep

There is no doubt, but this, you do not see

Till the snow melts away

Till the footsteps no longer tread one way


Till the footsteps of a stripped innocence

Come knocking at your door

In an unexpected cold winter

To serve you back

Leaving no doubt, whatsoever

ANEW

From what was a hushed night

We have now, morning

The silence remnants,

Still enveloping creek and corner


Soon it will have competition

When with sunrise, comes the bustle

And with the bustle, comes the hustle

The hustle, bringing forth a new chapter


The living are readying

To attack the day

Such zeal, such motivation

Pot scoops of such, invaluable


A brand new day

For the lonesome, the nurturers

For the caretakers, the peacemakers

Even more brilliant of a day, for a dreamer