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.

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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.

Reflections of You

How easy it is to sing praises of You
To recognize You in creation;
Your beauty in a sunset,
Your Majesty in the heavens.
While nature cannot help but reflect You,
I have a choice:
Will I look to You with the rising sun,
Will the world see Your love in me today,
Will I treat others with mercy and patience?
Or will I turn to the cares of the world for direction,
Will my life, my desires, match the world's,
Or will the world see You in me
As I see You in creation?
Lord, help me choose You each day
To join in ceaseless worship of You!

All of Me

I awoke.
Squinting as the world comes to focus,
Tools line the walls; the forge lights the room.
How I came to be here matters not
For I know why, why I sought this room;
I seek the means to craft a weapon
To defend myself, perhaps others.
The materials were gifts from birth,
But purpose - my use for them - unknown.
I craft a sword; crude, the weight awkward
As I hold it up. With time and use
It will meet my needs: fend off mockers.

I awoke.
Visits here are without count, purpose
Of each lost to time. Instead, recall
Significant events which brought me:
The first time I struck a friend as the
Weight overcame my strength, when I cut
Myself reaching too quickly to fight,
When I met multiple threats at once...
With time and pain it lightened, grew in
Sharpness, but still durable; I changed
With it, adept at fighting off all,
Friend and foe alike; I protect me.

I awoke!
The King of this world, creator of
This realm met with me! My life had been
Without purpose, direction, only
Seeking my glory, my power, my
Pleasure. With these things I grew further
From others. I doubted the truth of
Friendships, grew lonely, depressed. The life
Of wandering no longer suited
Me, but I knew no other. This King
Offers direction as Lord of me.
I promise to help: to fight for Him.

I'm weary.
I have purpose, friendships grow in our
Common knowledge of Him. Still bear my
Sword, still live a guarded life; now a
Dual life - with troubles, I ask my
Lord for help, then fight them off alone.
Has my life changed? I have general
Direction, but I live my life as
Before; I live by this sword, forged from
Gifts from my Creator, now my King.
I must return to His court, Renew
My vow to follow His will; His way.

I'm hopeful.
"Lord, my King, this is my sword, something
Of my making from your gifts to me.
I believed it served me well before
I called you Lord, but it was leading
down a path to death, Death without trust,
Death alone. You saved me from that path,
On your path this sword can not help me.
I offer it to you: all of me.
Never again will I rely on
My strength. Teach me to trust in you, your
Strength; to rely on your strength alone."

I'm alive!

-----

I thank you Lord for
This new life. Free of burden,
I offer my love.
All my life is yours to take
And fill with righteous desires.

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This post has been a long time in coming; apologies for that. Critiques of the very different format are welcome and, as always, comments on the content are also welcome.