To Worship Him

imagine with me, if you will
red dirt dusted
upon his boots,
the chair otherworldly
a product of sturdy,
lean legs crossed
relaxed.
smokey eyes intent on
the crown of the moon
and sun before him
a sigh,
twilight.
aware of every shift, made upon his domain,
cheekbones defined
as he contemplates
his tomorrow.
I see him,
and all I need is to
worship him.

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Ready To Receive

Found atop a blanket of motley colors,
A woman born of divine design,
what does she dream of, they wonder.
Fairytales full of splendor,
Fantasies full of surrender,
Suddenly she remembers how to shine.
Caught inside in the textures of our earth,
and the weight of why we’re here,
inspiration returns.
Her eyes see what no one else has to find, she is happy to believe.
Her fingers willingly touch what others presumably mustn’t,
and her heart is open towards the clouds. She is ready to receive.

Isn’t it a wonder!

***
What I Would Have Shown You

Breathe

I recognize how important a view like this could be for those seeking.

Deep breath, reminding me of how little we really are comparably.

How creation is here for a purpose and is depended upon.

And instead of sitting in awe, over its splendor,

I morn.

I caught a glimpse of what my soul really needed, felt my head finally clear, rooted in my deepest beliefs and wanted to stay.

Why would God show me and then pull it away.

Defeated.

Too much still depends on me. I can’t give up.

Breathe the azure
Smell the verdant
Touch the pristine

Let go of this grief.

***
What I Would Have Shown You

Small Pebble In My Jeans

my attraction to hard, born through a lost memory,
existed,
created who I am.

an unusual warmth from the simplest of minerals I’ve grown accustomed to, need
and cannot explain.

I greet them, inspect
place them in my hand
and slowly they enter,
my pocket. Mine. My anchor.

each time I revisit the Rockies
the desire arouses
matures, alters in strength,
becomes habitual.

these rocks, their immensity
I want to claim as my own,
every year unwilling to ask
I leave, unbecoming.

*What I Would Have Shown You

What I Would Have Shown You

inspiration doesn’t require
explaination,
when sat upon our souls
we transform. Recognized.

guidance welcome
acceptance voluntary

but, we strive to belong
somewhere or to someone
and in wanting we lose foundation. Consumed.

inspiration lost
desperation born

recognizing ourselves
and our vision
becomes impossible,
leaving the impetus expired.

***

An update and explaination for my words in this What I Would Have Shown You series can be found here: https://oldestdaughterredheadedsister.com/2019/08/10/an-update-new-series/

I hope you enjoy my journey. Your grace and patience while I sat growing has overwhelmed me.

Thank you for reading.

My Mess

essence everywhere
sliding, slowly, before me
found beauty, lifeless
and myself sat searching.
water breaks past roots, stones and debris
flows towards my lense; healing.
Chortles echo in the distance,
oh, one day love will be,
Verdant , my keeper – Forest King
show me where life will lead,
tears dampen this face, and my page,
Colorado heal me,
God, show me grace.

Pause

You reside on protective winds,
Waves she won’t honestly understand; and been denied.
Bringing peace to bruised souls deemed worth saving.
Left early to her own devices,
She questions helpful hands
Prefers avoiding disappointment, yet failed.
Forced to believe she’s meant to be alone,
Soul searching required, and left to wonder
Why life is the way it is.

Left Simply – With Beauty

He’s my muse,
Maybe he’s forgotten,
Unable to feel
My arms,
How I’ve wrapped them
So many times,
Squeezing tighter,
Within my mind.
He’s the attraction
I adore,
The lust upon my tongue,
Yet I cannot reach him.

Left.
Aching with want
Living amongst the borderline,
Of am I enough.
I yearn for his trust,
As he longs for my mind,
If I give it away –
Then what?
He’s mine – my wish,
Like a daisy chain around
My neck; a gift.
I’d wear him with pride,
If he’d ask.

Survivor

When did my confidence go to battle with my insecurities?
Why are they winning?
I know better.
I am better.
I will continue to thrive.
Go. It’s been done before,
I survived.
I would again.

Throwing a temper tantrum would never work.

Waiting patiently gets me nowhere.

Being my quiet self is far too dull.

All that is left is to use my voice, yet, the quiver I hear isn’t very convincing as I try.

Fearing judgment may keep me from the happiness I know I deserve.

Wanting to be a playground, but instead I’ve become too common.

Take what is yours, these words I hear constantly in my head, I used to believe they were meant for me to say to the one who truly wanted me.

Maybe it’s what I’m supposed to do.

Huh, it goes against who I believe I am, but being left alone is too.