Poetry has always been something that has been very difficult for me. Not because I feel I lack the words, but because there are so many voices of criticisms that I carry in myself. Recently I've been encouraged/challenged by someone who's had an impact on my creative process and I can't help but to reflect on why I withhold from being creative. Why hold back what I have inside that is pushing out to express itself? So, I am trying to say goodbye to perfectionism and hello to the beauty of rawness and mistakes and fumblings...they are true and genuine.
Ask, Seek, Knock
You call me to ask, seek, knock
Ask…
But what if I am fearful of speaking?
And to ask has resulted in disappointment?
What if when I open my mouth, it will be filled with things that make me vomit?
What if asking means bearing the weight on my chest
To know that my requests will be slammed with deadly silence
Abandonment
Futility sets in on my vocal chords
My throat is like a desert
Seek…
I do not know what I am looking for
What if I don’t recognize the image in my heart?
The visions of my dreams feel strange
Nightmares pour over my body like cold water weighing on my clothes
The image is weird and unsettling
They are strangers to me
Setting in on the sight
I feel uneasy
Faces have changed so many times in my life
Can I look at them and be sure?
My eyes are dry and heavy with tears
Knock…
To reach out and make a move unsettles my nerves
Unhinges my spirit
I feel I could hide forever
Or run away and never come back
This door scares the shit out of me
Entrances into what?
Into harm?
Into pain?
Into shattered dreams?
Why would I want to rap my knuckles against the door when I can already feel its splinters digging into my cartilage?
My joints are frozen
Do you know how I feel when you call me to ask, seek, knock?
Here is a fumbling of mine today, it came to me as I pondered Jesus in Matthew 7:7-12. I think most often we sanitize our relationship with divinity into an innocent and naive fantasy. This poem carries some of the heaviness and doubts I often bring to my relationship with God. I think God can handle it...I wouldn't want a God who couldn't.
Ask, Seek, Knock
You call me to ask, seek, knock
Ask…
But what if I am fearful of speaking?
And to ask has resulted in disappointment?
What if when I open my mouth, it will be filled with things that make me vomit?
What if asking means bearing the weight on my chest
To know that my requests will be slammed with deadly silence
Abandonment
Futility sets in on my vocal chords
My throat is like a desert
Seek…
I do not know what I am looking for
What if I don’t recognize the image in my heart?
The visions of my dreams feel strange
Nightmares pour over my body like cold water weighing on my clothes
The image is weird and unsettling
They are strangers to me
Setting in on the sight
I feel uneasy
Faces have changed so many times in my life
Can I look at them and be sure?
My eyes are dry and heavy with tears
Knock…
To reach out and make a move unsettles my nerves
Unhinges my spirit
I feel I could hide forever
Or run away and never come back
This door scares the shit out of me
Entrances into what?
Into harm?
Into pain?
Into shattered dreams?
Why would I want to rap my knuckles against the door when I can already feel its splinters digging into my cartilage?
My joints are frozen
Do you know how I feel when you call me to ask, seek, knock?
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