Light

LIGHT

“Lighten up!,” they say;
Meaning for me to give in
To whatever mischief they have in mind.

So subtle and clever,
They rationalize their excuses,
‘Til darkness tears me to pieces.

Then You light up truth
To shine on the Only Way
Where Love takes my load away.

Underlying Greatness

‘Tis not your luscious green
In that time of year
When days are longest
That displays your greatness;

Nor when to red and gold
They turn magnificent,
An honor to behold
With but a little chance;

But when cold harsh winds
Make your glory fall,
And freezing degrees
Seep into your core,

Deeper your roots cling;
Higher your limbs rise;
Patiently awaiting
Sovereign’s promised rain.

If Your Love is the Ocean

If Your love is the ocean,

I am the useless oil

That turns blue into black.

 

If Your love is the sky,

I am the old factory’s smoke

That turns blue into gray.

 

If Your love is the sweetest music,

I am the highest decibel

That turns peace into pain.

 

I could not look upon myself

Without getting disgusted

When You befriended me.

 

Though You are most pure,

I turned You into gray, black,

Destroyed You in unknowing eyes.

 

Still, You said, “Father

Forgive her for she knows not

What she is doing.”

 

Porque? Bakit?….

 

Why suffer so much for me?

Why wear the crown of thorns,

As if thirty-nine stripes weren’t enough?

 

Oh, the agony of my cross;

The pain of three nails,

And the sour words!

 

Why love me so?

 

“Shh….,” You gently whisper.

“I love you.”

No Good

              Mondays are notorious for being the worst day in the week. It seems to be the time when everybody is wide awake and becomes a busybody after a lazy weekend. Furthermore, in today’s world where it is easy to inquire or apply for things online, which people tend to do during the weekend, it makes up for a lot of work for the white-collar workers when they get in on Monday morning.  For me personally, it sometimes takes me all morning to respond to these inquiries and process these applications, especially when also trying to answer inquiries over the phone at the same time.  For others that are at the front desk interacting with people, they get longer lines or wait on a lot of people.  I know, because sometimes, I am one of those in line during my lunch break.  All these together makes room for a lot of mistakes,  which are always a grim reminder of our imperfectness.  Whatever your Monday may turn out to be, may this poem be a reminder of God’s goodness and his abundant grace that He so freely gives us despite our futile attempts to be perfect on our own.

 

Sadness that leaves no trace of joy

Efface memories of laughter;

Present defeat throttles past victories,

Evoking dejection from happy songs.

My mistakes tag me worthless.

 

Wind, take me where I can hide

I am no good, except for being set aside.

I want to quit. I want to retire.

I am no good except for the fire.

 

Goodness that leaves no trace of pain

Wipe out memories of weeping;

Present grace stifles past mistakes,

Exciting laughter from sad songs

I’m branded as Yours always.

 

Wind, take me to the finish line

I was no good, except that I have been restored

I want to quit and stop self-pity

I am no good except you love me.

A MOTHERHOOD SCENE

Consider the wonder of a tree I saw

Bent over a creek like a hunchback.

What would be its top  broken off,

Its body seemed ready to fall.

Affirming comments from the water below

Drew its roots into deeper soil.

Branches stood straight on its upside,

Teeming, grateful for such a heroic link.

Common Tragedy

Laid on future’s table

Exquisite cuisine;

A spoonful of this,

A couple of that,

‘Til on your plate’s a mount

Of  you don’t know what.

When the best arrived,

You felt obliged to  keep

Whittling away on your mount,

Watching in pain

As others savored

What could’ve been yours.

My Mistakes Vs. God’s Love

Sadness stealing any trace of joy;

Present defeat crushing past triumphs;

Happy songs causing greater grief;

My mistakes marking me worthless;

 

I wanna run; I wanna hide.

I am no good, except for being set aside.

I wanna quit; I wanna retire.

I am no good, except for the fire.

Goodness stealing any trace of shame;

Present grace lifting my spirit;

Even sad songs giving me hope;

Since Your love gave me worth.

Born Again

Yes, as you see,

I am covered with blood;

But no, do not wash me

For ’tis this blood

That cleansed me and marks me

Delivered from this world

Of deadly sin

Into the world of peace and love

Yes, I am crying,

Screaming, actually;

But no, do not pacify me;

‘Tis not for death,

But for new life, Spirit-given,

I rejoice, unrestrained.

So watch and know:

“I am born again.”

New Leaves

I bent,
Almost broke,
Did crack.

Incessant rain
Drowning me
In misery.

Why did I?
Shouldn’t have.
What now?

Rainbows.
Sunshine.
New leaves.