Lord, be gloried in our praises, be honoured in our thanksgiving.
Well today, I want to thank the best Dad for giving me this precious, beautiful, soothing, still developing, gift of writing...of poetry! Thank you sweet Jesus! What can I say, as I love to talk, I love to write! :-) I am definitely wonderfully made!
Many, many, many years ago, little did I or my mother (much to her despair) understand my quite serious, and sometimes annoying obsession, with the need to lug a notebook and a pen with me, everywhere I went; nor my the burning need to translate situations and scenarios into words and phrases! From trying to capture on paper, the man crossing the narrow road, to the children playing blissfully barefooted, in red dirt; to the woman carrying a basket, lopsided, yet perfectly balanced on her head, to the lonely for lone figure sitting in expectation, in an empty church! Little did I know it would lead to this, but as your word says, everything works out for good! For this, I am truly grateful.
I thank you for the peace, and joy it gives me…It's un-explainable! For Like David in Psalm 45:1, when I write, my heart overflows with beautiful thoughts of you, making want to conjure up the best rye for you!
I thank you that I am able to worship, praise and glorify the love and beauty that you represent through the very words you give me:
presented to me, are etches and phrases, wrapped up in
words filled with meanings and reasoning's
hand-delivered by the essence of the Holy Spirit
Their very rhythms impregnated with
love, beauty and awe-inspired mystery
propelled simply, by the unravelling reality
I am thankful for I am able to compose a poem to emphasise how magnificent your name is such as David the great Psalmist in Psalm 8:1 " 1 O LORD, our Lord, How excellent is Your name in all the earth, Who have set Your glory above the heavens! "
my soul… it dances...
to the tune of your love
I am thankful that I am able to use this gift, to simply bring glory and honour to your name.
So, today dear Lord, I come today with my box of thanksgiving filled to the brim for the gift of poetry you blessed me with. Lord I am thankful for what it represents to me, what it provides to those around me and what I can use it to do, for your glory! Father, I pray this box of thanksgiving is a sweet smelling fragrance in thy sight. Be glorified Lord.
The indescribable, ascribable, visible
presents parallel understanding
deep meanings and much resounding
Poetry is truly outstanding
it's not a question within my reality
visible meanings taking shape