Yea, she calleth out to me, my dark side of heart
Dark, for where she leadeth me, cold, for where it ends
'Yea, I see well the sparkling nectar that so doth draw me
'Tis true I long to drink 'tis true as well, her breath sucks my very wind
Yet red goblet churning and swirling now in beauty, is not where she leads
For she leadeth to low valleys, where no refreshments birthed
Where parched soul and scorched heart become fodder and food
I fall from a high place the preacher doth roar,
To a place for the fallen, off yonders dark shore
Where shame doth beset me once more
I preached once in palaces, stretched cross the earth
Tall sanctuaries small schoolhouses announcing the word
But now fallen angels surround me in bed
A place most deem joyful, for me earthen dead
My heart sadly puritan, base side held at bay
Who declares what is holy, is the cry heard in ear?
Only the child's heart can answer, held seashell to ear
For it lie in the deep realm where fire has eyes,
In the heart called ones conscience is where she resides
In youth I held fist to air shouting damn her I say!
Yet her grasp never loosened on the preachers heart now old
Yea, my hunger base wails yes, loudly inside
Yet for me, I must squelch her, yes, force her to subside
Base yes I only can determine for me
Whist others dream fancy, live footloose and free
Preacher lamenting, in turmoil and dread
The scoffing the ridicule runs fast in his head
Yet a child's voice awakens, speaking that which is good
A wise man must bow then, in wisdom understood
For a preacher fallen, I always shall be
Yet my heart I now carry is worthy to me
I judge not the other chap, nay loud I do cry
Yet inside this raw warrior, a preacher doth lie
My heart whisper sung, yea only for me
Seeking as always yea, true liberty
So fallen from high heights I have tumbled indeed
Yet a good boy remembers what the preacher did say
As the pews stilled in silence, then thundered fire did came forth
As he heralded his message on blazed wings of ray
Preacher and parishioner, hear your heart well this day.
it is well to remember our own falleness
lest it undermines our higher purpose.
as a preacher i can tell you that when i
ministered from my brokeness, and pain, even my sinfullness -- i was effective --- when i presume to minister from my wholeness i fall on my kisser
Rodney, To quote the 'key' in this would be to give you back verbatim, all of it; when finished reading I find that "raw warrior" is lingering, placed firmly in my mind's eye.. that, for me, is the pulse of this poem. To read you, this, is to be away for a while.. in the land of sighs.. you write with such gentle electricity! Gorgeous! katy.
I don't stand alone when I say this is brilliant and an applause (and encore!) is very much needed here. Excellent work, Rodney. A great reminder and a great eye-opener.
Warm Love
*-Brittany-*
This was so excellent, Like a song I could listen to forever, it was that beautiful, and hauntingly real, Love the images you have painted here, such sweet regret and sorrow...
Perhaps "..Quiet Storm" will help rekindle old flames buried and long forgotten or express the love so deeply locked inside of your soul longing to be released.
Regardless of where you may be found in love this beautiful masterpiece can be
Share
Print
Save
Follow
lest it undermines our higher purpose.
as a preacher i can tell you that when i
ministered from my brokeness, and pain, even my sinfullness -- i was effective --- when i presume to minister from my wholeness i fall on my kisser
truely writen
john+
Very powerful write...
Trixie :)
~Nikki~
Warm Love
*-Brittany-*
Excellent,
Reindeer
The eternal conflict of the caring soul. I love this nd the implicit message underlying the words. Very, very well done Rodney.
Candy