Poetry

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I once thought myself important,
   that you needed to hear me.
Then I'd set up a fiery distance,
   provoking you to fear me.
I believed in my own press,
   that I was the kid of God.
Until my ego had been addressed,
   my voice was my own laud.

It seems to me that you don't need me,
   but for the glorious Grace,
      for the Gift that came and freed me
         where I could help you see His face.

When I learn a simple Hope
   I know it's not simply mine.
So I'll speak for the heavenly slope
   to help you with the climb.

Now any simple paper cup
   can do as I've been given.
Yet it seems I'm the one filled up
   with a heart that's Spirit-driven.
And I'll be bold. I'm unabashed
   of the things He's shown me.
For love of two, Christ and you,
   that Love has overthrown me.

I'm only as needed as I am called,
   as long as my heart is beating.
I'll speak the words to make you enthralled
   of the God Who's never fleeting.
I will give, not fearing to lose,
   as I give it's all the more mine.
Eternal things can't be subdued
   like the grapes of Christ-made wine.

No glory in the paper of this cup,
   just for its treasure from the Lord.
What is from Him fill yourself up,
   that He might be your Adored.
My joy is found in the precious flow,
   in the reminding of your Hope;
      in limited minds that come to know
         the holy Love's unknowable scope.

In good time my eyes will close,
   being made open to a greater heart.
With sated soul I'll go to God's Rose,
   the One with Whom it starts.

© 5-11-2011

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