His Path

I oh so long to rhyme
To write of prayer and friend
To sing God's glory
And praise His majesty.
Thanking for His blessings
And calling for His lead
That we may know
Which way to turn
To live for Him only.
Knowing through all:
Trouble and trial,
That He is near
Working out His plan
In concealed mystery
That all will be a'right;
He gave me a part to play
Thank Him always
Walking in His peace;
For the path before was laid,
For each, tailor made.

Praise 3

You loved when I was
A worthless slave; drew, saved me.
Insufficient are
Words to express my love which
I long to sing back to You

--------------------------------------------

Certainly worth mentioning, the results of the Modesty Survey put on by the people at The Rebelution have been released.

Noise

The world's noise is great;
Finding peace while basking in
Glory of the Lord

Drive, Slow

An odd twist of personality, at
Times filled with sense of purpose - the need to
Create, whether in inspiration of
Pen or frivolous greatness in moments
Of fun. Along with this desire, my strength
Is sapped, the energy greatness requires
Deserts me as the drive comes. So I stand
Drained, but desiring action. All slows
As I desperately seek hidden strength,
Feeling the world - sound and silence, rush and
Stillness - stream over, threatening release
Of gravity's effects. If I close my
eyes and step, will I greet ground? Instinct says
I will melt into void; so planted, let
Action play out in darkness. Time stretches
And slows as my grasp on this space struggles
For purchase. Perceptions altered, concerns
For threads bound to community fade; for
Loneliness hungers always for my soul.

While energy is gone, emotion is
Amplified. Reasons are lost, never to
Be discovered. As time washes over
Me, so fleeting memories rush about
Tickling, pricking at my conscious mind
Triggering emotions and memories
Unexplained. Feel simultaneously
And again desires for adventure, deep
Sadness, contentment and satisfaction.
I don't know whether I should stand and sleep,
Or sit and write, or lay and pray; whether
I should rejoice or cry or just be. Choose
One, I long for another, but strength spent
I continue knowing all will pass as
Though a dream. Hope it leaves memories to
Be fond of, that the inexplicable
Moments inspire, ending not with increase
Of pride or loss in depression; but with
God, bringer of comfort, hope, peace, and strength.

-------------------------------------------------------------

I am periodically struck by
A particularly odd mood. In it
Is where I feel most like writing over
Any other time. I am not sure where
It originates from, but I'm convinced
My bouts with depression are quite often
Tied to it. Not that depression comes with
It, but that it lurks at the edge of me,
Seeking its chance. I've tried multiple times
To describe the feeling to those who care,
But the words which came previously - odd,
Detached, drained, apathetic - were always
Insufficient to encompass the rush
Of emotion, rise of inspiration,
And loss of energy. The last time I
Was in such a mood, I composed the first
Draft of the above, in an attempt to
Understand better my state. So here stands
A glimpse into the workings of my mind.