It is clear to me upon my thought,

An element which I have sought,

I can only relate it with poetry,

The language of dreamers, eloquently.

For those of you who, as I, have sought,

The peace of mind with purpose-filled thought,

And for those of you who have been entangled,

In contradiction with action/emotion strangled,

With determination set to accomplish,

But action fruitless and hope undistinguished,

I ask: Do you run the race just as I,

With a wish and a mission reaching up to the sky?

Do you sense your potential could power the earth,

But the fruit of your efforts diminish your worth?

Then let me relate this lesson to you,

So we both may be strengthened with purpose renewed.

In pursuit of wisdom you must, with constants, stay strong

And seek out igniters that will help you belong,

To the fellowship of dreamers, the council of discovery.

And your Lord, your love, your life will be,

That which you hope for, that which you pursue.

Let all others, unhealthy, with conviction be through.

Do you see it is simple? Ignite perspective.

With principles in place you’ll become reflective,

On direction, guidance, peace, and purpose,

Because a life without these is utterly worthless.

My Father from above,

Right now I call on You,

To share Your endless love,

So I may be renewed.

Lord, You’ve taught me the love,

Through fellowship, the Word, and prayer.

When I took You into my heart,

I found that love everywhere.

You are a lighthouse in my heart,

To guide the way,

And You always do Your part,

To bless my day.

Praise God! Now I can see,

That Your love resides in me.

I will keep the faith,

And You will keep on shining.

Around my neck,

And close to my heart,

Is an object of virtue,

The tangible part.

For this cross is a token,

A symbol of faith,

A reminder for comfort,

While running this race.

When burdens come to rest,

On my shoulders heavily,

I feel upon me the cross,

It’s then that I’m free.

With my object of virtue,

All is made clear.

Christ takes up my troubles,

And I abandon my fears.

A wandering vessel,

Made artistically,

Set off on a voyage,

A ship on the sea.

Set adrift by currents,

Crashing waves all in view,

Such pressing disaster,

For humanity’s crew.

But deep in the heart,

Of these people in need,

Is a Captain who conquers,

Even calms the sea.

For though waves of burden,

Look never to cease,

With Christ as the Captain,

There’s a voyage of peace.

I clasp them together,

And hold them real tight,

These hands of providence,

These tools of my might.

For all my accomplishments,

That any can see,

Were formed by these hands,

That I hold up to Thee.

For nothing I’ve made,

Or venture to do,

Could ever compare,

To what You make anew.

So I offer them up,

To use as You please,

These tools that You’ve given,

To bring this world ease.

My focus…. my focus is abstract.

I am like a bird underwater.

I flap my wings, trying for heaven,

Yet I am restricted.

The only reason I am in this sea,

Of sin and society,

Is because I flew down into it.

This water is cold.

I have been down here so long….,

I almost forgot,

What the freedom of air felt like.

Now that I remember,

I cannot flap hard enough,

To get back up.

This cold water stings,

More when I remember,

The warm air I once flew through.

I am not drowning.

The air that once filled my lungs,

Has not and will not be exhaled,

Until I can once agian,

Breath in its pureness.

How can I reach the surface?

I feel suspened,

By my flaps in this deep void!

Must I stop flapping to float up?

But this temperature,

And this darkness,

Almost attacks my wings,

Into violent submission.

Only the Sun gives me hope.

I can barely see Him in this darkness.

Only the Sun can make me float up.

I must keep my eyes,

On this faint glimmer above me.

I must trust that I will rise.

Even now I can feel my ascent.

My focus…. my focus is clear.

In one moment we remain,

As sober as the next.

So capable to refrain,

From emotional unrest.

Yet at other times, be sure,

In a chaos of the heart,

No stabilizing cure,

By which the anarchy departs.

Is it circumstantial,

The cause of our dismay?

Or is it some level,

Of maturity we display?

We need look to the Designer,

The Author of our being.

Finding comfort in His demeanor,

In that He is all-seeing.

Think not on the appropriateness,

For the state of your soul.

Rather, rest in His attentiveness,

To make your brokenheart, whole.

Oh willful boy, you stand so tall;

On stilts of pride an impenetrable wall.

What can I do to stay this game?

The bitterness you allow ‘tis such a shame.

But what of me your friend and foe?

I never leave, I contradict your woe.

I challenge you to start anew,

Let go this hate, seek a peaceful view.

What is it you need? What will satisfy?

Is it companionship or ambitions drive?

I won’t give up. I won’t let go.

I will labor until I’m sure you know,

A peace eternal that surpasses pride,

And uses ambition for its own device.

He hears you, know you, hates you pain;

Loves you, wants you, looks to your gain.

But none will come of it until you let go,

Of self-serving ambition and bitterness woe.

On that fine day there I will be,

Declaring with open arms,

“My brother, you are free!”