And Grace Found Me


And grace found me at the foot of the steps where I stumbled
He led me into a reverie of affections
And taught me how to make love with my emotions

And Grace found me picking doubt from my rag toothed skeleton
He asked me how I’d survived without the love of Christ
In the oxygen depleted pond of atheism

And Grace found me remunerating inside the tunnel of avarice
For the love of money is the stem that upholds deception
Broken dry Reed called Egypt that can’t be any souls trust

And Grace found me lingering about the field of blood
Waiting to retrieve the thirty pieces of silver
Instead of shouting maranatha with the 120 in the upper room

And Grace found me in the valley of mundane things
Brazilian hair, iPhone 6x, faultless make up, designer dresses
And all those cravings that sounds strange to Holy Mary

And Grace found me yet he wasn’t judgmental
He asked me why I was still babbling in unknown tongues
Instead of fellowshipping with the Holy Spirit

And Grace found me with the gift of a clean shave
Got rid of my eagle-feathered hair and bird claw nails
It’s been seven millennia wandering in the field of unbelief
I’d never imagined going through such quick transformation
Like Joseph’s speedy status change
Until I was discovered by Grace

Rebekah E.
© 2020

Waking


I’m waking up again
I used to write mornings till I grew too cocky to crow at dawn
The sentences without blemish I’d pen to grow
I stopped for some reason I can’t fathom
I guess I wanted more style, or fact driven
I chased earnings becoming more consequential
I feel the reign coming, thought clouds from deep within evaporate into bare paper

I’m waking up again.
A flood alarm,
The flood I am, it’s not my time but I can’t wait.
Horns in hand, my head grows obligatory weight
Alcohol isn’t the only thing I drink responsibly

My aunt Chi told to watch out;
That when my eyes are too much,
I’m getting selfish
And so I close my eyes when whenever I write
It takes a toll on my poetry, and my pride too.

Or should I say “used to?”
I’m waking…

The Niel Quchi
(c) 2020

Mum’s The Word

As I looked up at the assailant
Tears freely flowing like water
With each thrust, he took a bit of my soul.
Something broke, shattered in me
Then he said, “Mum’s the word”

Looked at them, the ones who loved me,
I want to tell them everything I felt
But imagining the disappointment and shame I would bring,
I told myself, “Mum’s the word”

I looked down, this time I’m on top
My eyes dim, my soul dark
I did to another what was done to me
And I said, “Mum’s the word”

I looked down at the weapon
That would keep me forever mum
I sighed and wished
Wished I hadn’t kept mum…

Emenike Chinwendu Victoria
© 2020

Here And Now

Here and Now
Here and now,
I stand tall with my head high
I’m no longer a slave to fear
I am a child of God
Here and now, I live in freedom for I no longer hide behind a mask
Grace has exposed my flaws and inadequacies
But He has given me a face to shine
Here and now, I have chosen grace over everything else
And the Holy Spirit empowers me
To live daily, my best life.

Ijeoma Obi
© 2020

Things Unseen!

I don’t know much about faith,
But if mine could be measured,
I am sure a mustard seed would feel bigger,
And a feather would hold more weight,
And tip the scale more than my faith,
On any given SI Unit

I don’t know much about Agric science;
How one plants a seed in an unknown soil,
In the night, full of uncertainties,
Hoping it germinates into a plant,
Bearing fruits of things one wished for,

I don’t know much about moving Mountains,
But I know of the Faith,
That made a woman wrestle her way through a crowd,
So that her rain forest of blood could be a desert,
That multiplied five loaves and two fishes into thousands and five baskets,
That defied the law of physics,
So, Peter could walk on water,

I don’t know much about Miracles,
But I know the One,
That turned water to wine,
That called the dead out of his tomb,
And called the bluff of a storm,
He is the one I present this little seed to,
Hoping that the things unseen in my life,
Manifests into sights best known to man.

Olaoye Adeleye
(C) 2019

The Lord Is My Shepherd


The Lord is my shepherd all my days on this earth,
There’s no room for want, lack, fear, nor death;
Walking through the valley with death shadows,
All I feel is peace, faith and strength in my bones and marrows;

The storms of life are colliding in my head like steroids in the space,
Temptations and trials roaring like a lion to my face,
Pressures of life heating up like a nuclear reactor,
All I do is to look up to God my creator,
Because every other device from the devil is not a factor.

He raised me from the valley to stand on mountains;
Filled me with the spirit of wisdom,
Elevated to the right hand to blossom,
This one is excess love from the father of fathers,
Right now, that is all that matters.

Now in him I have too much freedom,
Fulfilling my priestly ministry in His kingdom,
Sleeping like a baby because I rest assured of the future,
You know what, it’s made up of the necessary mixture,
Purposefully planted by God as a perfect fixture.

Behold, I am a new creature,
With newness of life, being renewed like the eagle,
Going about soul winning like atom revolving round it’s orbit,
Never lonely because I’m always alone with the Holy spirit;
I am never lost because I know who I am.

Lady Nancy
© 2020

The Journey

Could it be that I forget my way back home?
What should I do now?
Was it not the road others had passed?
Many questions weny through me

The road closed and muddy
I was confused, not going back or front
Stained and made dirty by the muddy and dirty water

As I navigated my way through Canaan land
My knowledge failed, my experience lost
Thoughts became dark
Feelings swung as a child handles the swing

Suddenly, Christ sent the good Samaritans
They took me through the muddy place
Oh! What a blessedness of godly companions in times of troubles
Because they see what I could not see

Brightobong
©2020

God’s Waiting Room

I hope I am able to achieve this
On the invisible canvas of your mind
All I have got are word paints and brushes
To paint a picture that speaks to you to
Stay in God’s waiting room

Ever seen a pregnant woman?
I guess you have
What do you think or know goes on in there?
A lot, right?
Growth, formation, connection
And I know you know it takes 9 months to get a birth

Ever compared that to your life?
You are like a pregnant woman
With the vision and the dreams you have in you
But just like the pregnant woman, you have got to wait
Wait to grow, wait to form, wait to connect the more, wait to learn, wait to unlearn and relearn

Here’s the important thing when waiting, your attitude.
God’s more interested in what you do while waiting than the waiting itself.
You are a being in time while God’s beyond time
You know now, you see now, but God knows the after now and he sees the after now
So when God gives you a word, a dream, a vision
You had better relax in his word remember he said, “wait though it tarries”

Elijah could as well have given up before the seventh time to see the cloud as tiny as the hand of a man
But he waited for his cloud of confirmation
So when it looks like you are tired of waiting, look out for the clouds of confirmation
Right therein his word because he is not a man that should lie.
So wait for it, for the vision, dream , word whatever you have been told cos it must come to pass.
And know that you are not the only one waiting, there a lot others,
God is preparing everything for you and you for everything
So grab a seat and wait in his waiting room until your name is called.

Phyl
©2020