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Okay, I freely admit that I am no Elizabeth Barret Browning. Not even Weird Al. But these poems represent all the angsty, silly, happy, and joyful feelings I have felt up to now in my life--so take them for what they are and maybe take a peek into my psyche--if you dare. :o)
17 October 1990 I can feel my spirit Except, I am Hopefully, Unless I allow them to
be.
2 June 1991 John 6: 5-14 In his hands,
"It's all I have, Lord," The Lord smiled and said, I stand before the In my hands "It's all I have, Lord," The Lord smiles, saying,
31 March 1991 Burning-- My heart filling, Overflowing; The silent Whispering of the Spirit Growing in me Till I'm cleansed, Forgiven; My mind enriched, And edified; My heart opened And expanded, It's capacity Magnified-- Until, By and by, If I have lived As He has shown, I will be Sanctified.
6 March 1991 Why are you here, A part of my life? Did I know you Before, were we friends? What is it about you That speaks to my spirit That is old and familiar, Like a song long forgotten And finally heard again? I know there is Reason and purpose for everything in life— And there is One Who knows My life and its Reason and purpose Much better than I— He has all my answers, If I will simply Ask the questions. And ask I must, For I know you, have known you For longer than I have lived; And the question Was carved into my soul The first time we met: What is the reason and wonderful Beautiful Purpose of you In my life?
18 February 1991 Words are never Enough— They can’t say What my heart Feels, How the Spirit Washes over me When I think of you; And when I see you, Those feelings Become more— they expand, they enlarge— Until I can’t see Just you anymore… Only we.
21 November 1991 drip drip drip goes my heart through tear ducts in my eyes pools under my chin splashes into wet spots on the pillow and what good are useless words when my heart is dripping away in my tears?
17 December 1991 Warm flesh hearts Don’t actually break When they’re tossed, dropped and Stepped on; although they do Bruise a bit.. But after enough of that sort Of handling, Hearts can freeze, turn to ice— Now, I don’t dare let anyone Handle my heart.. For if it were Dropped again, like frozen glass, It would shatter.
9 July 1993 Am I lost? Is it too late? I feel trapped by my body, By its desires and feelings and instincts; My spirit is caught, imprisoned by my flesh And emotions, Making even wider the gap Between me And Heaven. I’m supposed to Sacrifice all for that existence As covenants made In a Holy Place direct— But it means Sacrifice of something That I never thought I could find or deserve (Even though I found it wrong). Still… There is One Who gave More than His Life In sacrifice for me. Can I find the strength To do the least I can do In return?
7 March 1996 Father, Is it supposed to be This hard To come back Unto thee? I remember Before I… well, before— It seemed much Easier to pray, to study, to enjoy being at church. I was The typical "RM." The Spirit practically lived with me Twenty-four hours a day. And I loved to teach! I loved to study and pray! And I wished I could go To the temple Every day! Now, since…well, Since then— I lay in bed Thinking of everything but Giving thanks To thee— not because I’m Not thankful, But because it is such an effort To get out of bed and onto my knees. I’d rather be sleeping. (But you know how thankful I am, don’t you?) And I am surprised When I say the right thing To someone about The Gospel— I get a little tingle… But not often. Sitting through church Hurts my neck, And "What? You want ME to teach? No, I just can’t handle The responsibility right now." But… I’m trying To go to the temple, and trying to study and to pray. But it’s so hard! Father, Can’t you make it Just a little, just for awhile, Easier?
4 October 1998 Oh God, my Father--
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