Category: Poetry

On our kneesElevating intentions to theeReflecting not thy will but oursHoping to receive immediate answersYet, nothing seems to come!On our kneesPresenting projects to theeMounted without thy SpiritExpecting quick intercessionsYet, nothing seems to come!On our kneesProud of being ChristiansBoasting of holinessQuick in judging othersExpecting answers from aboveYet, nothing seems to come!Christian life is in constant constructionIntentions…
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Tonight, there’s no feedback to tell if I’m in the nude of prayer— in the milk-fever of worship where the control of any vision is; where the sign of the poison was cut to flesh— an open fruit to pour in the cancer. My father asked me to love the wound in his heart— asked…
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“Silence travailed because IT IS FINISHED”Beyond the cloud there is stillness,On that gloomy day,A glorious yet painful situationwhere earth ought to celebratewhile the heavens mournbut the multitude of divinity remained voiceless. The father turned his back to the wall,The son was about to kick the bucket,The spirit must have been in quiet numbnessCherubs and seraphs…
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On an earth that was filled with darkness and emptinessA word was spoken and light swallowed darknessGoodness came upon a landStars, moon, shiny days, and showers sprang of God’s creative wandThe once empty land was filled like a saunaWith springs of water, the lushness of herbs, and the grace of faunaThen God placed His own…
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When I was in my mother’s womb;Kicking, turning & struggling to be free,I heard a sweet soul-saving voice, telling me to come.& my breath mixed with the breathing of the earth. My feet were made solid,& mixed with tender terrifying terrains.I was transfixed on which path to trudge,I looked left, right & left again,I joined…
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To the past, therefore, went ITo find the cause of this brokenness.As I gained depth, this trio was constant:Pride, lust of the eye, lust of the flesh.I wish I could pretend I did not foreknow.Our ancestors sold us in pursuing it,The receipt of the transaction is in our blood,As a new code in our DNA,…
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When all that he isIs a perfect idea thought by Him,A dream to a young woman of twenty-two,And an unfathomable idea to a man of thirty,They meet for the first time.The boy does not know this just as yet.Love creates him, the idea of him at firstBut soon he’s a tiny bump on a once…
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