Broken ...
Broken ...
Branches, flowers, pads,
limbs, petals, thorns.
Wings and feathers,
body and limbs lay decomposing
amidst the life
that goes on.
Chirping, rustling, buzzing,
rolling, crackling, straining ...
the sounds of a
neighborhood rising into
the new day.
Flapping, swatting, swishing
as I sit here wishing
I could hear Father's plan
for me today.
Seek, observe, listen
under shade or
in the sun
wondering about lessons
I am hearing,
knowing that
the Son is speaking to
ears, hearts, eyes
that are ... broken.
"Heal me" is the tune
that thinking minds assume,
but eyes can not see
ears can not hear
what is spiritually written
into the breath that is life.
growth continues to expand
seeking its path
as is ordained.
Unfurling, opening, bracing
its energy charged
its shape displaying
vitality, beauty ... tainted
by toxins unleashed
by man and nature.
Growth sporadic,
thoughts enslaved to the
pruning life bestows.
Symmetry, both beautiful
and also deformed,
as are the feathers of our
thoughts, hopes, dreams.
What does ear hear
what does eye see
that is not filtered
through experience encountered?
Broken branches, flowers, pads
with bodies decomposing
all speak to ears that
can not hear and to
eyes that can not see.
The Spirit sees
and understands, transforming
woman and man
even though
blind and deaf,
we move forward
unfurling, expanding.
Broken ...
the noise of life and thought
all speak out,
chirping, settling, flapping
swarming with excitement
hearing, smelling, interacting
gnat-like in its insistency
of doing its
part of showing
God is speaking
and we all interact.
Decay, stench, odorous
smells are in
thoughts, words, deeds;
flowers, branches, trees,
thorns and thistles,
sweat of the brow.
All intertwined, broken.
Whirring, rattling, humming
shadows, silhouettes, reflections
all display patterns
that speak to our hearts.
Hearts wear their
filters, blinders, scars
that alter understanding,
awareness, empathy and
responses to brokenness.
Lines, platforms, canopies,
textures, flexibility, patterns,
movement, completion, return.
Such as this
is truly written
for our eyes
to see
and our ears
to hear.
Jargon, slang, anger
shape the transformations
of our filters.
Addictions, growth, slogans,
stunted yet free ...
become our thoughts
held in captivity
by being broken.
Father, we are
free because You
have a plan
and it's written before time.
Thank You for love,
thank You for Blood.
for only through Blood
can the broken heal,
not a we share,
not as we care.
But You do.
Through life we are blessed
if only we
address that plan
that is written.
All around the
answers are here,
Your beauty divine,
Your righteousness displayed.
Live commandments given
is requirement needed;
our dull eyes,
our dull ears,
our dull hearts ...
encased in pride,
ensconced in prejudices,
wrapped in judgement.
What we explain,
our egos in vain
try fooling You
and the world.
Except for Blood
washing and cleansing
Your beloved creation,
we are broken.
Excuses, whining, complaining ...
"it is them, not me!"
Our folly exposed
to You, LORD, You know.
That's why in
branches, flowers, pads,
limbs, petals, thorns,
wings, feathers decomposing;
chirping, rustling, buzzing,
rolling, crackling, whooshing,
settling, creaking, straining,
flapping, swatting, swishing ...
we hear You
and Your love
love and heal
the broken.
Thank You, Anointed
through the Breath
we pray, saying
Amen, Amen, Amen.
