I wear my heart at the end of a pen

My last collection of poems were honest but not my usual style and neither is this one. I have been desiring for months now to be taught, to learn the difficult things of faith and this poem really embodies that desire. It is a little long but please take just a few moments to read it and leave a comment below. Thank you, and I hope you not only enjoy it but are blessed.

-Savanah

Lightbulb

In my parent’s house there is a closet upstairs

With a light bulb that is always broken

Why it is never replaced I don’t understand

Opening the door

I instinctively flip the switch

Suddenly the bulb flickers

I’m taken aback,

confusion and shock rush through me

Leaving my mind in state of tangled wires

Somewhere far off there was a movement

In the distant void something shifted

And altered the innermost parts of this fuse box of chaos

Where the winds and rain no longer change and

The moon no longer controls the tides

Leave your umbrella at home

Forget bringing a coat and leave the dead to bury their own.

Where you are going there is no turning back

The road goes in one direction and it will kill you

The giants

The monsters

The hardest and worst things you could consider

And so much more

Will bring you joy upon joy

You will die and die again

Daily

You will crave it and beg for it

Tears streaming down you will sing praises and rejoice when you die again

Fire will rage and fear will flee

Death will refuse to come and solace your death

The curtain is torn and you can not stitch it back together

His arms have surrounded you

Scheming escapes would be futile

Running down the hall towards the door

My hand outstretched grasping

I collide with His chest

Without a sound He pulls me closer

I know I am a disappointment

A failure beyond failure but He persists in telling me I’m wrong

Understanding is beyond me

I’ll never comprehend

The fuse was flipped

The wires were made for a different substance than the one they have been fed

Simply gracing the hem of the white light

The fuse box comes back to life

Revived, there is something new happening

Fire rages inside

Burning inside out fully engulfed in flames

If there is an end to this expression I cannot fathom how or where it will come

Beginning to think this must be eternal a raindrop hits my nose.

Looking up into His face I see the clouds full of rolling thunder   

That was me,

When the sun rises on the first day of spring there is a change in the air

Something happens and the world is different

The air itself seems to take in a breath and the dew falls

Taking my hand He walks me through the garden

Escorting me back to life he picks a rose

Placing it in my hand He makes me touch the thorns

“Beauty is painful and requires sacrifice

I bore the Thorns

These are just a shadow

A mere illusion of things already overcome

You must go back, to the pain, the sorrow, the fighting

You do not go back alone

Yes, you must die

But you have already Died

And now this death is living

At the door to the closet I look up and see those eyes

The eyes that see the ends of the earth and yet refuse to see my sin

The eyes of grace

I reach up and flip the switch

Take a deep breath and close the door

I am being refined and I do not go out alone

In my father’s house there is a place that is being prepared for me

A place where the light will never go out.