last night's musings...
I love to write my thoughts late at night. The family was gone last night, so I had some time to write some poetry. Man, I always want to have time to let my soul breath...
God, thanks for giving me some space last night to think...I love you.
The Wellspring…
It’s silly really to write down
The stuff inside my head,
One second I’m on top of it
The next I’m all but dead.
I want to keep it to myself
And yet I want to share,
To lock it up and toss the key
Pretend it isn’t there.
Most don’t mind to hear the stuff
That makes them feel at home,
But any time I vent the junk
I’m swiftly left alone.
The looks I get, the puzzled words,
Or no response at all,
Leaves my heart to question why
so few will catch my fall.
It’s like they want me to be real
As long as real means nice,
But when I show the darker side
It’s like I’m rolling dice.
The crapshoot of my honesty
Will either draw or kill,
What makes the one uncomfortable
Makes the other thrilled.
I look about for someone else
That has the heart to write,
The things that hide inside the day,
yet surface in the night.
I wonder if another soul
Is spending time tonight,
Penning random wonderings
Beside the candlelight.
I find more peace in nights like this
Than almost any other,
Wrestling to stay alive
Instead of under cover.
“Make up your mind, you stupid boy!”
This phrase keeps bugging me,
I’m thirty-one, for goodness sake
What could my problem be?
But here’s the thing that most don’t get
About the life I live,
The time it takes to bind my heart
Is time I gladly give.
I love to sit and let my soul
Come up for air and breathe,
Telling me what matters most
That’s buried underneath.
The questions that emerge from it
Have never led to death,
Even if they make me gasp,
They always give me breath.
They don’t depress my heart a bit
In fact, they resurrect
Desires that are going numb
When cause has no effect.
There seems to be a lot at stake
As it relates to living.
The days are short to change a life
And time is not forgiving.
Tomorrow is another day
But that’s no guarantee
That I will purpose to redeem
The life in front of me.
That is why I have to think
About these things tonight,
For I must greet the dawn prepared
To brandish sword and fight.
I can’t expect to just show up
And let my instincts guide,
They have a way of leaving me
And running off to hide.
Passion today is nothing more
Than yesterdays resolve,
A choice that’s made in secrecy
That in the night evolves.
Growing thick within the breast
And setting it ablaze,
Burning up the apathy
And clearing up the haze.
Even if the thoughts I share
Make me look absurd,
They keep me from becoming one
Who’s seen and never heard.
Seen as one who rarely aches
With feelings of confusion,
Looked upon as something great
Becoming an illusion.
But that is just the thing I am
Afraid I will become,
A figment of the carnal mind,
A fabricated bum.
A fantasy that just pretends
To fill a public need,
Never letting people see
The things that make me bleed.
Illusions satisfy at first
But over time they die,
That always happens when we trade
Authentic for a lie.
So even if at times I make
A person double take,
I’d rather have them see the truth,
Than get to know a fake.
Above all else, I will guard my heart
Even if I find
This wellspring of my very life
Makes me lose my mind.
God, thanks for giving me some space last night to think...I love you.
The Wellspring…
It’s silly really to write down
The stuff inside my head,
One second I’m on top of it
The next I’m all but dead.
I want to keep it to myself
And yet I want to share,
To lock it up and toss the key
Pretend it isn’t there.
Most don’t mind to hear the stuff
That makes them feel at home,
But any time I vent the junk
I’m swiftly left alone.
The looks I get, the puzzled words,
Or no response at all,
Leaves my heart to question why
so few will catch my fall.
It’s like they want me to be real
As long as real means nice,
But when I show the darker side
It’s like I’m rolling dice.
The crapshoot of my honesty
Will either draw or kill,
What makes the one uncomfortable
Makes the other thrilled.
I look about for someone else
That has the heart to write,
The things that hide inside the day,
yet surface in the night.
I wonder if another soul
Is spending time tonight,
Penning random wonderings
Beside the candlelight.
I find more peace in nights like this
Than almost any other,
Wrestling to stay alive
Instead of under cover.
“Make up your mind, you stupid boy!”
This phrase keeps bugging me,
I’m thirty-one, for goodness sake
What could my problem be?
But here’s the thing that most don’t get
About the life I live,
The time it takes to bind my heart
Is time I gladly give.
I love to sit and let my soul
Come up for air and breathe,
Telling me what matters most
That’s buried underneath.
The questions that emerge from it
Have never led to death,
Even if they make me gasp,
They always give me breath.
They don’t depress my heart a bit
In fact, they resurrect
Desires that are going numb
When cause has no effect.
There seems to be a lot at stake
As it relates to living.
The days are short to change a life
And time is not forgiving.
Tomorrow is another day
But that’s no guarantee
That I will purpose to redeem
The life in front of me.
That is why I have to think
About these things tonight,
For I must greet the dawn prepared
To brandish sword and fight.
I can’t expect to just show up
And let my instincts guide,
They have a way of leaving me
And running off to hide.
Passion today is nothing more
Than yesterdays resolve,
A choice that’s made in secrecy
That in the night evolves.
Growing thick within the breast
And setting it ablaze,
Burning up the apathy
And clearing up the haze.
Even if the thoughts I share
Make me look absurd,
They keep me from becoming one
Who’s seen and never heard.
Seen as one who rarely aches
With feelings of confusion,
Looked upon as something great
Becoming an illusion.
But that is just the thing I am
Afraid I will become,
A figment of the carnal mind,
A fabricated bum.
A fantasy that just pretends
To fill a public need,
Never letting people see
The things that make me bleed.
Illusions satisfy at first
But over time they die,
That always happens when we trade
Authentic for a lie.
So even if at times I make
A person double take,
I’d rather have them see the truth,
Than get to know a fake.
Above all else, I will guard my heart
Even if I find
This wellspring of my very life
Makes me lose my mind.
Comments
Yet, I think that, deep down, everyone wants a "dark horse" experience with life (feeling the grit in the teeth, and the cool, sweetness of real sweat, risk and seeing God work today in fresh ways), but much prefer to live it vicariously through others (whether by watching movies, reading books, attending sports events, or especially by associating with the actors, authors, and athletes themselves).
Even as Christians we live in a MATRIX world, where fantasy fills our minds making us think that we are faithful, even when fruitless ... that we are following, even though we don't go anywhere much beyond the weekly 'stage show'. For many, talk and thought translate into doers of deeds in our minds.
Bottom line ... people want to associate with "dark horses" because it makes them feel like THEY are "Wild at Heart". But, when the reality of living as a dark horse is experienced painfully and personally, John 6 becomes their path of pursuit.
Just some thoughts from another 'dark horse' ...