What design did You build in me?
This longing, misdirected,
Silences all the anointed pleas.

What fever did You ignite in me
That I would sequester
My own body parts, a gruesome ordeal?
I'd rather bleed and stagger
Than to stumble out of Your presence.

What pleasure do You find in me
That You would remain faithful
To this faithless heart, my Love?

The first to die will live to last

Death I do, this is my deed
Indeed this death, to life I bleed
I bled to life, when blood I took
And take His life for mine to lead

A hope to end all hopes on earth
A life more final than its own birth
is what I've found, the day I died
I denied myself to find my worth

No more pain, hunger or thirst
No longer orphans, no longer cursed
For the first shall fall behind to last
And the last shall be found as first

Love of a child

This one is new, I picked it up from the curb

And waved it to my mother who was waiting by the car door

frowning, dear child what is this dirty thing?

A torn sock, gutted and loosely strung with threads all around

reminded me of a picture book I once read about a raggedy doll

who came to life upon meeting the love of a child.

Perhaps, I thought

if only I could love it, it would come alive!

Love it tried I, my mother disapproved and hurried,

Grumbling under her breath about the junk I brought home.

Why do you like this garbage? Why don't you like new dolls,

like all the other normal children?

I could never stop beaming, the imaginary doll

was already coming to life, buttons and yarn and the whole nine yards.

Loving her! He is such a delight, he's actually beautiful

But mother has plans, and her heart has forgotten what it means

to bring dolls to life. dirty, she mutters

Please don't throw him away

I pleaded

Don't

(because I love him)

I'll throw it away, I promise

But I kept him alive in my drawers

Dancing, and singing, and telling me stories until bedtime

He makes me laugh (I thought to my mother)

but she will never remember the feeling.

He is able to make us stand

Things are beginning to align.
People have said my whole life, "She is a lost cause".
Everytime I hear it, I feel a deep resonance in my soul, something placed in me since birth.
A curse passed down from my origin, speaking of abandonment and futility in love.
Are these people calling out the truth which fits in the cavity of my soul? Or its emptiness?

Be careful what you speak forth.

I am tempted to surrender to this voice, the despair of hopelessness.
"Abandon her for she is abandoned"
(I wonder if this is what you are experiencing, my friend of signs and wonders)
"Abandon her for she will abandon you"

Time has nothing on the Lord.
One day I could be here, the next day I am a thousand years ahead of everyone else.

"But do not let this one fact escape your notice, beloved, that with the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like one day."
2 Peter 3:8