Wednesday, May 28, 2014

untitled #1

I was at a stoplight yesterday thinking of my novels and writing, and how I've woven together so many words to create stories, lives and worlds, but I found myself daydreaming and marveling at all that God has created. 

I've built kingdoms of fiction and fantasy 
I've created beings from nothing 
I know their thoughts
I make them move. 
I've crowned kings and queens 
I caused betrayal and dissension 
and I've started wars and battles. 
I've built these kingdoms, and
I've torn them down. 
There are thousands of flaws 
in all I've created. 
Though I've sown together 
the words that have created 
all of these things,
I can never write enough words. 
There are trails of ink that 
swoop and sway into these poems
I write, but they'll never be enough. 
I've blotted out the imperfections 
until all that is left is everything necessary 
but I'll never make it perfect enough. 
But You, my Lord,
with words alone you spoke
all of earth into creation. 
You are perfect 
and though You've given me the gift
of creating fake worlds and people
and stringing words together 
to paint a picture 
and weaving them into a blanket so they're all connected,
to spill ink onto a page 
until it transforms into poetry,
it will never be enough,
my words will never be enough,
to fully express how thankful I am,
to fully express how much I love You,
My Savior,
and to fully describe the great lengths of Your love for me. 
My heart may overflow with words
that spill into black ink,
but Your heart overflows with love
so great that it spilled into Your blood
so my blackness would be washed as white as a blank page. 

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