Grateful

I am grateful gethsemane is not the gravesite of a salvation we could have had. That blood-like tears did not stop blood from flowing freely for fellows like me. I am grateful that sleepy friends could not hinder divine conversation and personal survival was bypassed to institute divine design.

I am grateful


Ezeonyeka Godswill
(C) 2022

Gethsemane

The garden reminds me of him

Bowed down he bore weights too heavy before they ever landed. My Lord knew the battle was his to fight and he would not let me suffer. If this price had to be paid, then he would do the paying.

The garden reminds me of him

The Lord of glory had need for help. Every minute brought him closer and every gesture was a prayer. He that was everyone’s everything had no one’s nothing to journey with him. Alone he must go. A lone garden he must sow.

The garden reminds me of him

Before the curtain dropped on sin’s final payment.  Before ever a drop of blood hit the floor. Before stripes parted his skin and men killed the one that healed them. The garden bore witness to my Lord’s humanity. The garden bore witness to this man’s divinity.

The garden reminds me of him

Ezeonyeka Godswill
(C) 2022

The Pause

I have heard great people speak
Thank God someone kept a record of their speeches
I have listened to how their words string
And they never miss to take a pause and think

It is not a lack of words I hear
For their capacity have never been one to yield
Yet with the abundance of words to wield
They take a pause to care for what they speak

The way they hide years between their words
Tells me there is no rush to prove my worth
Tis better to have never uttered a word
If you would regret it because you didn’t take a pause

Ezeonyeka Godswill
© 2020

Listen

What if you knew that I truly would rather not be here?
What if you knew that my knees refuse to be still?
That my pounding heart is the one sound you cannot hear
Would you listen to me still?

What if I told you how unsure I am of this?
That time and chance kidnapped my will and set me up
What if my lines are not yet the truth I want to live?
Would you listen or shut me up?

What if I am confident?
I know what I have put in , I am ready
What if I don’t fit in the box “humility” presents?
Would you be pissed or yet listen to me?

What if I am nothing like what you are expecting
What if you still listened anyways?
What if the content was your hearts longing?
Wouldn’t you be glad you listened anyways?

Ezeonyeka Godswill
© 2019

Fry-day

Last night, i got laid
Doubt came to me in my dreams
And had an intercourse with my mind
I am five months gone
Carrying these thoughts around
Hoping to abort this abomination
So, let me break open my insecurities
Hoping to make an omelet
Because today is fry-day

Shots fired
Fear has breathed its last
I am shut fire
Ready to explode at last
This is suicide
I die to rise, call it Easter
Fear skews sight
Jesus fixed it, Bethsaida

I love a meal of eggs,
Egg-xactly omelets.
The way we can whisk two together or maybe more,
Like the intercourse of minds, like the grind of spirits.
And isn’t beautiful, the wet and slip of waters, the freshness like a new day, the way it all becomes familiar and new?
As we sit at tables set before enemies ,
Fellowshipping with sips of living tea and chewing bread alive, making alive,
That the omelet served is faith, the abortion to every doubt.
Isn’t it beautiful, the sparks that fly as iron sharpens iron, and ideas are born for the time they arrive?
Don’t you just love a meal of omelets?

Olaoye Adeleye
Ezeonyeka Godswill
St. Davnique
© 2019

#Fry-day
#FreestlyeFriday