Poetry

Friends, I have been challenged to write poetry.

Traditionally poetry was my forte, but raising children, managing a home, and

being a helpmate has whisked away my ambition. My poet's quill has long set in

it's vice becoming quite rusty. Yesterday it was brought to my attention and I felt

a gentle nudge from behind to once again find a blank page and paint words in

water color images. I chuckled at the thought of actually creating a poem that anyone

else might read, but this morning I had some words that refused to settle in my head

until they found their abode, brushed across a page. So here is my first attempt in, what seems a lifetime ago, to put words into small bits and pieces, forming something with a

few words while trying to say many things.

I am 

captured in a bubble

of unbelief

that masquerades itself as

my protection.

My hands caress  it's 

walls from the inside 

as I see beyond and imagine

what it would be like

to be

out there

where faith breathes.

How does one escape

this sphere of hopelessness,

forever

shattering it's facade?

Memory recaptures a Word

a promise

a covenant...

Belief begins to rise 

like the fog that says

farewell to the morning

My heart responds 

with dancing.

The bubble cannot resist

it must unlock

this cell and

release me into

the world beyond 

it's embrace,

the embrace of an impostor.

The world of faith has

beckoned me

I am no longer held by the

limitations of the bubble

for I have been launched into

a new sphere...

the sphere of

Possibility.

"Everything is possible to him who believes." Mark 9:13

Blessings,

Cheri