His Glory

There is no shame that taketh a man
But such that is common to man
In nakedness without shame
For his glory surrounds you
You see not my flaws or mistakes
Not because you know you’re naked too
But because he’s made me good
In you I see glory
In me you see glory
With faults and flaws here and there
Yes in this journey we may hurt or be hurt
But it’s no shame in nakedness
Because when I see you
And you see me
Its his glory that surrounds us.


There is therefore now no shame
To those who are in Christ Jesus
Who walk not after the things they see
But after his word
Which says
Fear not, though fearful things surround you
Be thou not confounded,
Though there are things you may not understand
Be not ashamed, though you’re naked and hurt
You’ll not be put to shame, for I am your glory
Breath in earthen clay
Words into void state
Light into dark days
Your Maker and Husband I Am!

Philipa Oraegbu
© 2022

 

My Shepherd

It’s in His nature to provide for me even when I don’t know what I want.

He feeds me with goodness and floods peace to my soul.

By His name, He restores me to sight each time I lag.

Even though I walk through hot coals with bare feet unending, He swallows up my fears in comfort with healing and gifts in His bosom.

He sets me up for royal treats in the darkest storms and redeems me with the outpour of his spirit and an overdose of merriness and joy.

Surely goodness and mercy follow me forever as I am now a host of His eternal spirit and life.

As the years draw nigh

With love shining in many forms

Like a rose among the thorns

I have come to understand and believe that everything written in the 23rd Psalm seized to be my responsibility the day I said YES to Him, my good Shepherd.

Imani Dokubo

(C) 2022

Which Way

The broad way is tempting.
So spacious, it feels liberating
This disguised bondage
The broad way seems like the logical option
The right answer, The convenient choice
The broad way is the new cool, the celebrated path

And the narrow way seems too lonely
Not wide enough to walk in properly
So I’m always stumbling
Falling head over heels
Trying to keep up with God
Looking up to religion
The author and finisher of my misery
The tormentor of my soul
On this middle ground, my body is in Canaan and soul in Egypt.

I make choices that betray my words
I take steps that draw me back
I’m a little bit of both
But not quite of any
What do you call light with a dash of darkness?

I was on the brink of desperation
Ready to resignation to fate
Surrender to my mistakes
Let myself go
Then He spoke to me, reminded me of what He had said
That His love was louder than my drowning voice
That His grace was stronger than my weak resolve
His Word outweighed my will
His promises infinitely greater than my grave mistakes.

Nothing compares to the safety net of His love
That He would never leave me
He’s right there with me
Not shaking in anger, but extending his grace
That saves me from the sinking sand of religion
In His grace I find strength
To overcome, to live His life
to take a sharp turn off the broad way
to the road less travelled
The path paved by His sacrifice alone

So in life or death
In sickness or health
In my lowest or my highest
I rest easy because
Nothing compares to the promise I have.

Damaris Akhigbe
(C) 2022

Gift

Gross is the word for it
That pain accompanied by loss
Overwhelming the reality of it all
We would rather take a walk
Better still a break from the fall
The very point where life’s meaning got raked.
Then what?
Stay locked up in an abyss giving access to non

Pain
Loss
A drawn blind obstructing the reflection of dawn’s light
Howbeit take a life jacket
Never walk alone
Of a truth nothing would the eye see in total darkness but through the walls the hand can feel until the candle stand comes to sight.

Sure a stranger in a tunnel lying in the middle of nowhere
Call a friend
Though sanity be raped a million times divinity will come through and would you like a baby wrap with his blanket of love.

Ebube
© 2022

Life would’ve been a Romance.

Life would’ve been a romance if Adam was home and Eve didn’t try to be woke.
We would’ve walked the length and breath of the earth without being broke.
We would’ve plucked flowers and laid on grassy sheets gazing up at the most beautiful sky.

Life would’ve been a romance if she didn’t want what she already had.
If he was there to remind her what they already are.
He would’ve taken a walk with her deep into the woods; stopping at the zoo and playing a game of ‘catch me if you can’ in the cool. She would’ve taken a drink of water from the purest of rivers and watched the sun set from its bank.
She might’ve been reminded of what they already had.
And we would’ve stayed the same, feeling nothing of shame

Life would’ve been a garden, green with life and red with love.
Children would’ve stayed innocent and grown ups competent.
The wild would’ve not preyed on the tamed.
Evil would’ve not been retained.

Life would’ve been a romance
A walk in the park
A camp around the fire
A picnic at the beach
And a kiss under the stars

Life was meant to be a romance.

Ijeoma Obi
© 2021

Nostalgia

She said I write but it is not poetic
I guess I just recognize a selling point
Point me to the past I’ll be back at it
That first day I saw Godswill

Mmm


I’m emotional I beg your pardon
The things that connect when you meet a God person
I can at least afford to pay attention

All of that bed dressing
But I am not done with the lesson
Cedars got on stage like “We are the best thing”
Masks on my wall, I forgot to call Kizi

We grew from one location
To going on tour and we’re just beginning
They tell me “Bro, one day you go blow”
I smile and bow a seed will die to grow

I could make an anthem for the kain ship
You guys make me feel so fancy
There are stories that I daren’t tell
Movies make my head swell
Eating cabbage like it’s fresh bread
Being Nigerian is a king thing
I just kill all the dread
Luck or is it grace that I’m mehd
if you don’t walk on water
You’ll be doing so soon
What you are is enough
When it’s time don’t you bloom?

Don’t you bloom?

The Nielquchi
© 2020

Mother Hen

Above the city Jesus wept. “Jerusalem! Jerusalem!
Don’t turn away, Jerusalem! Come close to me,
my children.
“I am the mother hen,” he cried. “Beneath my wings
you all can hide.
There you’ll find warmth and life and love,
my little chicks, my children.
I’ve longed to gather you to me, Jerusalem! Jerusalem,
Please let me mother you! You’ll die
without my warmth, my children!”

We hear his call but turn away, for we are all
grown-up today.
We do not want a mother now. We’ll be
nobody’s children!
But as the cold world closes in, we think
about Jerusalem,
And what it’s like to walk alone, scared,
mother-love-less children.
No one lives through these dark, cold nights
without the warmth, the love, the life
That Jesus Christ, dear Mother Hen, gives gladly
to his children.

I trust we know enough of sin, to realize the bind we’re in
When even though we say we’re old, we’re acting just
like children.
And as we turn to leave the nest, convinced our choice
is for the best,
He hopes to see us come again, next time in New Jerusalem.
No one retains their innocence without the strong,
bright broody wings
That Jesus Christ, dear Mother Hen, folds softly round
his children.

Pamela Urfer
© 2021