Love, be sweeter

Love, be sweeter than any music

that has ever made, ever created.

Music, be kinder than any feeling

that the minor key has fated.

Feeling, be gentler than any hand

that has ever held my fragile face.

Hand, be more creative than any soul

that has ever been embraced.

 

Soul, be freer than any prison

that's created by the mind.

Prison, be broken of the thoughts

that have been left behind.

Thoughts, be braver than any voice

could so appear to say.

Voice, be louder than any prayer

that is said this very day.

 

Prayer, be stronger than any poem

that the poet's and writers write.

Poem, be prettier than any star

that shines all through the night.

Star, be brighter than any light

so that we can find our home.

Light, be fuller inside our souls

so we know we're never alone.

-LJ 

30 November 2016

Frigid Air

This morning, my feet are cold,
and my arms and legs asleep;
they feel so numb and lifeless,
but still some life they keep.

My hands and fingertips, like icicles,
pretend to know the words,
that I want to say so loud
but never will be heard.

The frigid air was brutal
as the sun shone on that day; and
gave clouds and socks and hat and gloves,
some warmth, in some odd way.

-LJ

23 November 2016

The Night's Embracing

The night welcomes all

with arms extended,

as if parent embracing child,

child embracing spirit,

spirit embracing Abba,

Abba embracing His world,

His world embracing us;

as the night stands, arms extended,

to embrace our sleepy heads

and keep us safe and warm

as the humming of twinkling

and twinkling of glistening

and glistening of moonlight

and moonlight of starlight

lulled us, sailed us,

unto peaceful slumber.

The night continued holding,

with arms around us,

performing symphonies of clear skies,

clear skies to the Father,

and Father proclaimed,

proclaimed His will be done,

be done in midst of night's embrace;

night's embrace of protection,

protection from the wicked,

and the wicked be banished,

and the banished be wicked,

while Father- Abba -holding

in His arms, the sweet sleeping,

and the sweet sleeping protected

in night's embracing.

-LJ

23 November 2016

the lamb & the shepherd

one morning, while awaking,
a little lamb saw a shepherd,
and heard His gentle call.

still in dream, but slowly blinking,
the little lamb felt loved;
loved and somewhat complete.

the shepherd found the lamb,
and took His little one back home,
singing softly of Heaven.

the little lamb asked:
"How do I love You,
He, who is all true?"

the shepherd replied:
"As you would
the world around you."

the little lamb asked:
"Have I found You,
my savior?"

He held the little lamb
close to Him, and responded:
"You have. Be at peace."

~LJ
7 November 2016

a piece of my heart

I took a little piece of my heart,

and gave it to you.

Did you hear the deafening cries it made

when your too-tight grasp

shattered it?

Tomorrow, the pieces

 shall mend,

and my heart shall be whole again.

But, I become weary to 

love another.

I took a little peace of my heart,

and gave it to something greater.

Did you hear the relief

when my faltered soul

filled with song?

-LJ

7 November 2016

Buildings

I often dream about being lost in huge buildings.
These buildings I dream of have have beauty interior,
although they possess exterior protected by weathered brick.
Some buildings, however, are crumbling, and
sometimes I am in them as they are being demolished.
I am standing in the buildings, observing celebration,
such as the graduation of my inner child; or conflict,
such as my battle between happiness and depression.
I dreamed last night that I was in a building, lost,
but familiar with the place I once learned how and what.
I dreamed of clothes and plush toys, and losing consciousness.
I dreamed of the protection inside the building
as the quirky man ran over to catch my fragile body
before it was able to hit the cold concrete ground-
eyes fluttering as patterns of triangles on blue walls
captured my attention- and his distorted and blurry voice
asking if I was okay, and if I had been so tired that I was not aware
that I was sitting in only the highest chair, looking up, up, up.
I dreamed of clothes and plush toys, and finally getting help.
I dreamed of the people around me, holding me close,
while I cried that my life was in shambles and I couldn't take any more-
slowly walking with a friend, a mentor, who taught me to use
the voice that had so unexpectedly been accepted, although
I was still afraid it wasn't good enough for projecting- and
love filled the building as the long letters of recommending assistance
with the inner mechanisms of my mind and dirty clothes
and scattered plush toys and patterns of walls and crumbling buildings
and buildings already gone and new buildings rising and dreaming-
I woke up- and remembered everything about what it means
to care for the little girl and care for the big girl that is I.

-LJ
23 October 2016

Common

I woke up.  

After everything,

 I was awake.  

My frail frame, 

struggling to pick itself up,

 and my pale skin, 

yearning for 

the light of common day.  

But nothing 

was ever common... 

not after that.

  

-LJ

17 October 2016