Tag: joy

With These Hands

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With these hands, I will write a hymn, a poem, and a love note,
Just to express the joy my soul feels.
From the gifts of which your word wrote,
And the ails of that which it heals.

For In his hands, are holes that I be made whole,
That I be free from the world and it’s ill
By his sacrifice I am a saved soul
And a co heir to his estate and will.

With these hands, I will lift his name on High
Above issues or powers that be
For your authority, no being can defy
The lord, there is no one as he.

In his hands, is joy, love and peace.
I shall forever bask in his embrace.
Forever anxious for nothing, my heart shall be at ease.
I live not by my being, but being in his grace.

Ini Brown
©2020

LAUGH

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Laugh, when your feet is aching
When your heart is breaking
When life storms seems to make your faith shaken.

Laugh, deeper than your pain
Louder than your fears
Laugh for he has taken your cares
and his joy is yours to gain.

Laugh, smile, jump and dance
Spare not these worries a second glance.
Laugh for your strife was won by his stripes
Laugh and let victory be forever your stance.

Laugh…

Brown da poet
© 2019

THIS IS LIFE

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For God so loved the world that he gave his only son that whosoever believes in him will not perish but have everlasting life
This is life that you see one who gets along with your thoughts
This is life that you meet your necessary complement who aligns with God’s thought
This is life that you live abundantly
That there’s someone who resonates in the same frequency of your being
One who has the boldness to take you from what was once called harmony into a bigger family

This is life that life find one who sticks with you closer than a brother
Who fights side by side with you against your betrayals
This is life that you have one whose leading and guidance is of the Holy Spirit who completes your sentences
Whose night intercession wakes you up and challenges your day to make sense
This is life that when the night gets darker, your light shines brighter, and bigger, and better
And men will see your heavenly Father
And there’s more…

There’s more to life than meets the eyes
This is life who listens to you even when you are wrong
Who treats you right and decorates you as his bride
Who holds you even when you can’t hold on
Who lavishes his mercies upon you and gives blessings beyond you
And there’s more…

There is life who weeps with you
Guards and then carries you
Who smiles and watches the joy that lit up in your eyes
Who taunts your stalkers and troubles your mockers
Who see beyond your needs and strengthens your feeble knees
And there’s more…
That at the end, you’ll be holding hands with God’s precious gift as your Makers says to you,
“Well done!”
You lived a good life
For God so loved the world that he gave his only son that whosoever believes in him will not perish but have everlasting life.

Azubike Hannah
© 2019

TALE OF THE HEAVENS

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Far away
Away as the waters that once finds its dwelling at shore

How far is far
Are you talking about endless oceans or a stary sky?

I have lost my rhythm at the sound of the endless ocean
Scared to trace the pathway
Which I once trusted as the Broadway

The way to the Broadway can be deceptive
But we are receptive to the leading of the rhythm within
The one that leads to the path of life

The path of life
The crown of eternity
Grizzled with Gold and emerald
Joining the Herald
The cherubs and seraphs in the song of redemption

The very redemption that liberates
The one that exposes me to my strengths
The joy is unending
This song ushers me to rivers of living water

Most times I hear more about angels singing
But poetry is hardly talked about
Does the angel write?
Is poetry their kind?

If they ever wrote I wonder what colour the words displayed
But I think to myself, if Christ is a poet then maybe their is a trace that leaves clues

Maybe they write in blue
Or green, or pink,
No, I think golden, because of the golden scroll
Maybe not
Maybe black or brown or no color
Maybe their ways is a mystery to unravel

I think a greater mystery to unravel is the way they study their master through us, the chosen once, the once who have given themselves to the Word

It teaches me the true way of a living master
That conquered me in my rebellion
Adonai
That divided the river Nile

The Niles hear and see
They are receptive to the masters voice
Same way they can be with ours
Cause the signet has been placed on us

Imani Dokubo
The Alchemist
© 2019

THE MOST BEAUTIFUL GIRL – Part 1

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The most beautiful girl my experience taught smiled at me today
It has been a long class and I thought I was following till that smile
I have myriads of questions but I fear my mates might have a comic relief
So I try moving my shivering lips apart in an attempt to smile back
My grades are average so why the warmth in her smile?
My grades are average so I must be missing something a brighter student can point out
Soon after class, a tap on my shoulder, and I turn to see a pair of joy-flooded eyes
I can’t hold her gaze, my legs are trembling and I have a sudden urge to pee
I sit down, clamp my legs together with my hands between them
She seem to notice my discomfort so she pulls out my hand and holds
“What have I got myself into”, I think
Without mincing words she tells me she likes me and would want a friend in me
On the 3rd attempt at trying to talk and not recognizing my voice
I clear my throat and all I can mutter is ‘okay’
I could change classes and routes and never see her again but she has other ideas
She walks me home, my palm in hers
With each laughter and chatter, I feel at home
She tells tales too beautiful to be true about herself;
Describes her thoughts of me in ways my exposure has not afforded my imagination
I unpack boxes I leave packed because I was always on the move
Now I am home

ChyD
© 2019

LET’S MAKE MAMMA PROUD

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The one; who sat and watched my infant head?
While I slept in your beautiful cradled arms.
The one who held me dearly, like a craft, never to be broken.
Pain is driven off in her arms, arms of love that never harms.
She cast away my fears and with loving warmth dries away my tears.
Her eyes are like stars to behold, they give me hope beyond despair.

When pain and sickness made me cry,
Touches from you made me smile.
I was nurtured like a plant to flourish,
Was polished carefully till I looked pretty and beautiful.
Guilty she felt when I had not gotten plenty,
Yet with care she made “this little” satisfy my every need.

Who taught my infant lips to pray?
Who trained me in the way of God and His word?
Told me I would have life less without having the Life of Christ.
Her love is incomprehensible, she calls it agape.
She encouraged me to be loving too because love never fails.
Never look back, heaven is before you. That is her greatest story.

When thou art feeble, old and grey,
I will be your strength, your fulfillment and comfort.
Your smile I will make as I feel your heart with joy everyday.
And one day emerge the man you are proud to call son.
I will take you to church even when you rest in peace.
But till then this is my piece for you;
MY MOTHER.

Adethatwrites
© 2019

I HATE COOL AND SWEET

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For some reason, I detest cool, sweet, and smooth. Here’s why: when they settle too long, they become lukewarm, sour, and ugly. They stink. They turn worthless.

Then they become poison.

I would rather carry live flames in my arms. I’d rather they burn and sear my delicate skin and roast my plump flesh to ashes.

I crave the blood to soak my bruised face, that front of handsomeness that assures me falsely, that flimsy foundation of confidence. I would give everything to be on fire, to be a lamp, a candle’s burning thread, consumed to give light to a world being killed by sweetness, sweetness of the kind that rots the soul.

My fear isn’t for the fire that sinks my swag and shatters my claims on being ‘cool’. What I do fear is the inferno of coolness itself, the molten dissolution the world considers sugary, the fraud that embraces the tongue with caramel lather, only to steal its sense of taste.

Don’t be deceived into thinking that love is sweet. It isn’t. It isn’t bitter either. Love’s very presence renders taste secondary. The stronger it is, the less interested we are in what is does to our taste buds- whether it makes them tremble with excitement, shudder in awe, or retreat in terror.

When we are so far gone in love, it is Love itself- not its sweetness or sharpness -that consumes our being.

When you think that love can only be sugary, you will believe that reproof and compassion do not belong together. You will believe that a loving God could never damn a sinner to eternal torment. You will be alright with replacing the one true God with a sky dwelling grand-daddy figure too cowardly to correct the wrongdoings of his grandchildren.

When you think that love is only hugs and kisses, without rules or toughness, you will more easily wander off into dangerous openness, that vast but counterfeit ‘freedom’ called hell, the eternal coldness which lies at the end of all pursuit of crowd-pleasing ‘coolness’ for the sake of it.

We can reach beyond shallow sweetness to take hold of the exhilarating, all-consuming roller coaster of intense joy and deep-cutting anguish that true living brings us. That’s because in the midst of it all we are sure that a God who loves us fiercely will give His own life to preserve ours. Even if it means snatching us from the flames of cool with some degree of compassionate force.

 

©Ikenna Nwachukwu