LETTER TO THE BRIDE OF CHRIST


Dear damsel of Honour
A few words for you that may not hurt
Your role is quite exquisite
Therefore you must be all it takes, no exceptions
A gentle heart, quite accommodating
Large enough to fit in all the lost sheep
You must know how to tend to a shoal of fishes in an unbroken net
Making dinner is a routine
Please no recipes in the wrong sauce
Only serve at tables with your hair dyed a deep red
A prove you have been sealed with the blood of the lamb
You should be an epitome of beauty
Something competitors can emulate
You need a Joseph’s store of patience and obedience
To last till the troupes waiting in line linger
Your eyes must only be on the Lord
Don’t glance elsewhere, they’re all dead mirage
His instructions must be your delight
A rebellious mind he does despise
Please fill your soul with the deepest love
Leaving no void for another to fill
Pride will leave you where the Nephilims’ are
Don’t hesitate to fall at his feet
You have to be a perfect mother
Who knows the secret remedy to all her children’s whims

Rebekah E.
© 2020

INFLUENCERS OF POSITIVE CONFESSIONS

Then he took up his oracle and said: “The utterance of Balaam the son of Beor, The utterance of the man whose eyes are opened, The utterance of him who hears the words of God, who sees the vision of the Almighty, who falls down, with eyes wide open

Numbers 24:3-4

My heart has been burning with a prayer point from this text. Everything Balaam said concerning the Israelites when he was asked by Balak the king to curse them were heavily influenced by two things: what he saw (or should I say he was allowed to see) and what he heard.

Our utterances are a functions of our perspectives and hearing. May God open your eyes to see exactly how He sees, regardless of the situation. When we see things like normal men, things common to the normal man will become our reality because that’s what your mouth will confess (things are hard, life is unfair).

Kai! Help us oh Lord to see like things you do.

He didn’t hear the words of men but of God, so his utterances replicated the very words he heard. No wonder the psalmist said he heard twice what God said once (Psalm 62:11) because he knew the impact those words would have on his spirit.

Father! Open my eyes to see men and situations from your perspective.
Let your words sound so loud to my ears until my spirit align with it. Let my lips can’t help but utter it.

I pray that this scripture will draw you to the place of prayers until your mouth begins to echo the pictures of your eyes and the whispers to your ears. May God help us in Jesus name. Amen.


EZEKIEL, C. PRISCILLA
YIELDED BONES INT’L
© 2020

Who I Belong To

I’ve heard of the sweat and essence
Of loved ones
Worn in a vial around the neck
Wrapping them in the fragrance of love

I’ve heard of a lady’s favour
Worn on armour
To protect the soldier in battle
And surround them with home

I’ve heard of love marks
Left by lovers
Like dogs marking their territory
Each tiny red welt saying “mine”

I’ve always wanted one of those
I’ve always wanted to feel owned
And belonged to
And belonging to

This craving has drove me into the arms
Of pharaohs and philistines
And mad scientists and thieves
Who plunder and take and take apart

I seemed to have forgotten
I did belong to One
Father, Son and Spirit

I wore the fragrance of His peace
My heart was His favour
Worn around His ‘holey’ palms in pride
His Spirit was my love mark
Shining through my words and my eyes and my prayers
Screaming “Mine!”

When I did remember
My world was alright again.

Ifechukwu Miracle
©2020

The Faith Virus


There’s a pint sized creature dancing in my head
It stomps on the well worn neural pathways
Connecting my thoughts to my fingers
So when I think ‘God is good’
It comes out sort of ‘Gulder’s fool’
And I swear, I’m not even drunk

There’s a pint sized creature dancing in my head
It stomps on the well worn neural pathways
Connecting my visual center to my subconscious
So when I see God’s promises in print
I think “this surely can’t be true”
And then life proves me right

There’s a pint sized creature dancing in my head
It stomps on the well worn neural pathways
Connecting His words to my actions
So when I want to do good,
I find I do anything but
And I don’t even mean to

There’s a pint sized creature dancing in my head
It stomps on the well worn neural pathways
Connecting my heart to His law
So when I see His ability to save me
I concentrate more on my ability to change me
Even when I know I can’t

This tiny bot
Has taken up res
In my software
Daring me to try and fry him
I know I’m not tech savvy
But I do know about malware
So as the word flashes on my screen
I drive this point home;
“Faith comes by hearing and hearing the word of God”
So with my mind receptive and vulnerable
My bot is obliterated.

Ifechukwu Miracle
©2020

Drive Past It

I stopped driving at 16 when I had my first accident. The cost of it all made me decide to let the keys go, like lovers on some bridge in Paris, after adding their locks to the teeming number that will cripple the bridge.

This is not a poem. And it is not about lucks or keys
or a kiss or about spoon feeding emotions
or trying to have a relationship
or driving a career worthy of a Fast and Furious adaptation or a Shakespeare narration.

This is to the one who has felt heartbreak close up but, like one of the blind asked to describe the structure of the elephant, will take my words with a pinch of salt. Add it to that part of your wound that a heartbreak caused, cover your cracks with it, do an Nsibidi inscription on your sensitivity.

Heartbreaks are bad for your Health.

Remember when I said I stopped driving, well, I will drive again, and again and again and again. That is how hearts get broken…and heal.

You love or trust or have certain expectations for/from people, their inability to meet up or match your expectations leaves you hurt, and now I have been summoned from Frankenstein’s grave to tell you this;

Don’t stop loving, don’t stop being optimistic, don’t stop expecting the best from people.

Don’t stop believing…
Don’t stop loving…
That is how hearts get broken…and heal enough to heal other broken hearts.


Ice Nwa Ǹkwọ
©2020

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