Fueled by Miles, Sober Drink, and the Word that is God

A poem that originated as an attempt to seek inspiration from an icicle...but soon transformed into something much, much different.

I had to clear my room before I could write

 

The pen and paper were out, I simply could not write

 

Until, at least, each pair of pants was just right

 

But until the mess was gone, I could not write.

 

I set out to write about an icicle and contemplation

 

But my mind drifted to my brother and our most recent conversation

 

The talking between us two has lead me to think about my life station

 

And how, it seems, my place is in two very different spots in this nation.

 

My life would be a hard one to follow if watched without narration

 

From sitting silently in chapel to exiting with much animation

 

From the calmest of acoustics, to the wildest, loudest drums in all creation

 

My tastes are forever varied, and often taboo for my location.

 

But it matters not to me, for from myself I need no vacation

 

For if the pay were better, self-discovery would be my vocation.

 

Often I wonder if my questions are a form of self-admiration

 

It is then I realize Satan’s displeasure with my self-evaluation

 

Fore it is then I am shown how obviously “Christian” is a constant occupation.

 

Even as I write this poem, self-critiquing is half my concentration

 

Fore I have realized my poems lack a linear form

 

Yes, it is true; some of my poems are not of the norm.

 

But is that not to be expected? Or is conformity still required of me?

 

But I do not wish to follow form; I wish to live life on my own terms.

 

“But you’re just writing!” Ah, yes, but have you not learned?

 

In the beginning was the Word – And the Word was God.

 

So is putting ink on a page my futile attempt to commune with God?

 

Then wouldn’t that be living, for is not God omnipresent?

 

But then words would not be required, for I AM is always in our presence.

 

Does this now make you realize that it must be in your hearts?

 

For saying and living are two uneven, and often polar opposite, parts.

 

Now, all of this has stemmed from a cup of coffee, and an icicle

 

My brother, a car ride, and the fact neither of us is fickle.

 

Isn’t it amazing how God works, in those slight little ways?

Yet still we forget that it is by His will we are still living out these days…

Reviews

[Lydia]

God doesn't need perfection, or conformity, or form. I learned that a long time ago. He needs us to fail sometimes, so we can trust Him. At least that's the way I look at it.

Love the self-discovery line, by the way.