Those regrets

Recapitulated regrets fling themselves in my face:
Sharp memories that cut at my careful visage.
Oh how I shrink at the reminder of my  selfishness!

A chance,
I ask for merely one.
To love as once I should have done.

Prayer of an earnest seeker

God of grace and forgiveness,

I seek your will;

With your love and mercy

May I be filled.

 

Your ways are ever higher,

Your mercies run sweet and deep.

Your love is an illuminating fire

Refining every part of me.

 

My mind cannot grasp

The grandeur of your majesty;

You overwhelm me with your love

Which lasts forever unto eternity.

 

Lead me, oh God,

In your ever perfect way.

To be always near you,

Oh Lord, is what I pray.

 

May everything I say and do

Be truly as if unto you.

 

 

 

Grey afternoon

The clouds hang in cold suspension over the landscape, their hazy palour seeping into the mountains and rooftops, painting the scene a dull grey. Some birds call out to each other in questioning intervals while the tap-tap-tapping of the rain hastens into a conversation of its own.

I lose consciousness of the low electrical rumble of the fridge in my apartment as I seep into the landscape and the twittering and the tap-tap-tapping.

The birds are calling, chatting more confidently now – they are not deterred by sombre airs. A turtledove contentedly announces his position on the neighbour’s roof to anyone listening.

There’s a soft and earnest beauty in the greyness, isn’t there? A longing, a kind of breath-held stillness that is let out in a long, gentle sigh. It leads us to reach out for comfort –  I pour mine into a well-endeared cup. My hands embrace its warm body as I bring the steaming comfort to my lips. And the grey afternoon itself becomes a little warmer.

 

Golden strings

A melody on golden strings,

drawn out beautifully.

I know, though, that it’s not meant

for me.

 

I close my eyes

to let it,

if only  for a moment.

Awake

The curtain rustles in the nightwind,

A hazy white banner in the dark,

Signalling my approaching surrender.

 

My heart flutters.

 

Resolves have always been made,

And broken,

In the night.

 

But morning brings with it

Light.

Always.

 

I’m not coming back.

At take-off

Heavyhearted gravity pins me to my seat

As I watch the tilting world below me;

A swirling swell of

Somebodies,

And one of them is you.

 

Higher, higher,

Shooting through the blinding white

 

-Into blue suspension-

 

My stomach stayed behind

Somewhere on the ground,

Where I let go of you.

 

I think you know;

I’m not coming back.