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THE AWAITED GUEST
THE AWAITED GUEST
When l feel that life is smiling,
and no fear is freezing my mind,
care is far from my surrounding,
I ken then that Jesus is nigh.
What has happened to my spirit
sorts of flames are burning inside,
urging me to dance in triumph
as l grasp the world in my hand?
All that's happened in a minute
and dispersed my care and my fright.
It is not by chance my dear Lord;
it's Your visit to my scared heart.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________________________________
When l feel that life is smiling,
and no fear is freezing my mind,
care is far from my surrounding,
I ken then that Jesus is nigh.
What has happened to my spirit
sorts of flames are burning inside,
urging me to dance in triumph
as l grasp the world in my hand?
All that's happened in a minute
and dispersed my care and my fright.
It is not by chance my dear Lord;
it's Your visit to my scared heart.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________________________________
Published 25th Apr 2020
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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25th Apr 2020 6:44pm
What would a would-be poet learn about how good poetry is written from this piece?
25th Apr 2020 6:54pm
Jesus,
I’m told you wish
to come inside my heart.
But shouldn’t you now ken,
if you are as omniscient
as many people say you are,
that entry by a person there
would make me die
since then
you’d burst my ventricles apart?
I’m told you wish
to come inside my heart.
But shouldn’t you now ken,
if you are as omniscient
as many people say you are,
that entry by a person there
would make me die
since then
you’d burst my ventricles apart?
When in those times
I find myself content
and blessed with radiant joy
and subtle bliss
abiding deep inside of me,
I have no reason to suspect
that Jesus is nearby.
Oh why would I?
He’s up in heaven, isn’t he?
And more importantly,
he’s not the source
of things that bring me
into ecstasy.
Those are:
good books,
a flame-filled fireplace,
a motorcycle ride,
a loving woman by my side,
her kiss,
her avid touch along
my limbs,
my nether parts,
her cries of “yes!”
of “more of that”
and “I love you!’
as I begin
the exploration of her skin.
It may be sin,
but all of this,
I ken,
comes not from him.
I find myself content
and blessed with radiant joy
and subtle bliss
abiding deep inside of me,
I have no reason to suspect
that Jesus is nearby.
Oh why would I?
He’s up in heaven, isn’t he?
And more importantly,
he’s not the source
of things that bring me
into ecstasy.
Those are:
good books,
a flame-filled fireplace,
a motorcycle ride,
a loving woman by my side,
her kiss,
her avid touch along
my limbs,
my nether parts,
her cries of “yes!”
of “more of that”
and “I love you!’
as I begin
the exploration of her skin.
It may be sin,
but all of this,
I ken,
comes not from him.
