Poetry

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If you could see me, look into my eyes.
You could see I know what it means to die.
But if you knew it would be no surprise
for I had left that which only flies.

Things of dust and fantasy, I have left behind.
The thing that they call love, I have found unkind.
The light they claim, really a shrieking dark.
The riches they declare are found in empty hearts.

I would know, I have seen and I believed it so.
Similar knowledge I thought I had, but I didn’t know.
The warmth that I had sought really left me cold.
Chasing youth and foolish dreams left me feeling old.

Yet the place where I die is also where I live,
for what lives in my heart, lives that I might give.
Yes, my act against that life, a kind of insurrection.
But then such deaths can lead to a kind of resurrection.

I died to the past and things of men, wanting much of me,
and rose to One, the maker of all that I could clearly see.
It seems He had known me, while I knew Him not.
Came with fire and clean water, to wash away my blot.

When He called, I had to come. No place is left for me.
His chain of love on my heart, made me to be free.
Before this One eternal God, I am barely born.
Time and youth is nothing, old loves I now scorn.

It must seem, though I’m still here, my choice is like I’m leaving.
But one can only leave for things that they are seeing.
Where He guides, He provides. I see it for myself.
The One who commands greater things, gives much greater help.

So if you care to come and fight this fight with me,
take His chain o’ heart. Let it make you free.
Our time here is where we’ll heed His call.
We await for higher things, ascend to greater halls.

© 1-23-09


Note: Written for a brother-in-the-Lord serving in the military in Afghanistan.

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