Friday, May 15, 2015
A piece I've been working on for the past few months.
Exploring various thoughts and emotions similar to Psalms of Lament.
I am not sad, depressed, etc.
Just an exploration into keeping our faith fresh and alive.
*Disclaimer for my disclaimer...
A true writer should never really have to write an "explanation" before their thoughts...
but there it is and there you go.
I'm not a true writer yet ;)
Once there was a time when I heard music. Each song held notes and overtures from a different age. Single chords soothed and revived in waves. They told of adventure and distant beauty with an artistry composed of more than theory. It held secrets and spoke of places listeners had never traveled to, but had already come from.
Although that symphony has long since played in these ears, I know its’ magic well enough to feel the void, for I am deaf now. There is no melody to these droning hours and I mourn the loss of such a heavenly orchestra. Will I drown in this continual concert of silence?
Once there was a time when I held flowers and they held me. I walked a cut path of floating lilies-velvet and pure. They carried the promise of dawn after a dark night within each bloom. Pictures and paintings could not capture their elegance. One could only gaze upon their glory and be swept up.
That is a garden I have not seen in ages, for my sight is gone and these floral visions are mere memory. Every petal has been swallowed up in inky shadows. Is this blindness to be my world? I fear I will never again behold such ceremonial splendor.
Once there was a time I danced through each day. I would soar over boundless, ballroom floors of the earths’ surface- barefoot and free. Whether moss, marble, or sand, there was always a place or occasion for movement and rejoicing. I was quick and agile and could fly.
So what is to become of these dry bones now? They say the slightest movement could cause a break. All freedom has gone and only frailty and weakness remain. I am spineless and cannot lift my weary head, let alone lift up these legs to carry me away.
Once there was a time when I dined in a great banquet hall. The foods and wine were unparalleled in taste and matchless in quality. Meat, fruits, and breads were piled on golden platters. The candles never dimmed and the linens never dirtied. For all the bounty offered, no morsel fostered gluttony or greed. One only walked away nourished and content.
Oh to be a guest at that table again! I long for its’ plenty. For now, my tongue is dry and my stomach hollow. I eat and drink all day but am never full. What cruel trickery is this, that I have lost my appetite for anything other than dust?
Once there was a time when I was clothed in white. The vision is shrouded and far off, but the make of such an outfit I shall never forget. The purest of white linen- it was weightless and brighter than the sun. Every line was tailored to mine alone. It lit up something within the wearer that was beyond outer appearance. Clothed in such finery, I was more than just a royal. I entered into part of an entire Kingdom itself.
The loss of that garment causes me to weep. Only tattered and dirty burlap encompasses me now. I am suffocating and cannot be rid of this new uniform. In spite of every effort, each fiber is somehow embedded to my paper-thin skin. Will I ever make it back to that wardrobe? I used to be clothed in riches. Now I am rotting in rags.
Once there was a time when I had a love-a reason for each hour and hope to any darkness. It was the kind of love that made romance and infatuation seem childlike and clumsy. It stemmed from sacrifice and service. The more I drank of it, the more I realized how undeserving I was to receive it. Walking towards this love was walking into life. Everything stopped and started in a single, earth-shattering moment. This love did not make my heart skip, but rather made my heart beat for the first time.
Of all the gold and shining images that play before me in my mind this is the one that will not let me rest: the wholeness that existed in having a heart that was loved and purpose-filled…and the painstaking awareness that…
Once, I was not like this.
How gracious you are to sit and hear me grieve.
Silent and Great Physician! Examine me and see the depths of this loss!
For only You know my history.
Once there was a time you brought me back from the dead.
But I wandered far from your rescue and celebration and climbed back into this festering hospital ward.
Tell me there is still hope!
Will you lift up a cripple who left you at the alter?
Do You offer Your holy medicine to leprous traitors?
I have nothing left, no payment which to give You. All I own are broken apologies for broken covenants...
Skilled surgeon! Can You do Your waking work on the walking dead?
Will you carry me from a funeral to a wedding?
Say it can be done and I shall gladly give up this shell of a life!
Upon your Word I will breathe my last,
so that my Once, can begin again,
Posted by Jekisa Jean at 10:03 AM