A Rising Tide

Do you feel it in the air,
A sense of something coming?
The likes of which you can’t compare,
An insatiable longing?
A growing wave forms steadily,
Just breaking the horizon.
The tide comes in readily
Beyond the bounds of reason.
Oh beckoning breeze, you welcome me
Preemptive of fruition.
Anticipation builds frantically,
A mix of hope and tension.
Some may dread and fear unknown
Recourse of such submission.
They hide away all alone,
Afraid of vain delusion.
But no, not I, my purpose forms.
I’ll hope for nothing less
Than providence amidst the storms.
My life, my King shall bless.

Introspection

Stillness, silence, a somber gaze,
Three strands in one accord,
Melancholy utility,
In reflection of the adored.
And when said tenant afforded this state,
Arrives upon our visage,
Ne’er mockery should any relate,
Nor their image should we pillage.
For in but moments shall we be,
Candidates in succession,
By circumstance quite affected,
Thus instigating our reflection.
Let us not have one day pass,
Where such moments are ignored,
Sentiment is built to last,
And weather all the storms.
If we abandon introspection,
No solace shall there be,
No foundation will exist,
To enjoy the memories.