My Heart has a Sixth Sense

My heart has a sixth sense
                                 That will shatter my world
    And
                      Recompense
                                        The world around me.

It is certainly astounding
       That it can feel something that surrounds me
That my eyes can rarely see.


I want them to be opened.
I want them to believe.

                                                I just need to find the key
                                                That will set these captives
                                                                                         Free.

Perched Atop a Fallen Log

Perched atop a fallen log
With the brisk autumn air kissing her face,
She sits still
Dreaming of what she soon will be
And what she has become.

The birds remind her of where she came from.
They bring back the freedom of frolicking
Down freshly blazed paths that carry her
To her place of refuge.
In that place her thoughts flowed freely
And any fetter locked around her heart was set free.

The trees remind her of where she is going.
From a young sapling with nothing to bring
To a strong shelter for the weak and needy,
Roots set deep into the ground
To stand against any Storm
That may knock it down.
And even when it is knocked down,
It grows back stronger than the first time around,
Growing closer to the Light as it gets taller and stronger.

She is inspired.
She will be free.
She will be strong.
The Light will make her everything
She needs to be

Somebody's Baby

I was desperate.

But rock bottom felt pretty good. I had everything I needed. I was happy, satisfied when I had money to get what I needed, and I lived in the city. It was everything I ever dreamed, on the surface. The only thing I was missing was a house, money, friends and family. Only I didn’t really care about that.

I was running low on cash, and my supply was low. I remembered when I was around seventeen I would see people post pictures on Facebook with homeless guys in them holding up signs saying “Need Money For Drugs” and stuff like that. The photographs were always paired with a comment about how they appreciated the addicts honesty. I figured I’d give it a shot.

Leaning against a building, half asleep with my sign in front of me, I hoped to get enough money for at least the next day. My only other option was prostitution, and I would never in a million years have pictured myself doing that. But, if it needed to be, it would be done. I looked down the sidewalk only to find a man walking my way. He looked like he was going to come talk to me, and that’s all I hoped for.

He had the kindest eyes I had ever seen, and a gentle loving smile to go with it. He reached out to me as if to shake my hand, and when our hands met was when he finally spoke.

“This money belongs to me, but it comes from someone else. Use it well.”

He squeezed my hand, looked deeply into my eyes as if to say “I’m giving you a second chance with this, don’t blow it.” I just nodded. When I looked down into the palm of my hand, a hundred dollar bill was sitting there. When I looked up he was gone, disappeared into the crowd.

I was set. For days. I went to the corner to set my order, got what I needed and left. I went to my favorite spot in the city, the bridge that gave me shelter and company, and sang me to sleep at night with the music of the river flowing underneath and the buzzing of the cars above.

I took one hit, and couldn’t stop going back for more. I could feel it pulsing through my veins, my head was buzzing, and I got a warm fuzzy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I felt blissful. It was the closest thing to perfect I had ever felt in my life.

I sat watching the water pass below me. I started to think of the man who handed me that hundred-dollar bill. I remembered the look in his eyes before he left. “Don’t blow it.” I wished with everything inside of me that I could see him again. I wanted to ask him for help. He was the last person I met who really would give me help. I needed him, more than I needed this high. But he was gone. I blew it.

That’s when I drifted off to sleep for the last time.

The Songs I Will Sing

To live is Christ
To die is gain
Will be my sweet refrain
Until He calls me home.
I will live to see the light of Christ
Shine bright in this world.

When I'm at the bottom of everything I am,
I discover the whole time I was falling
I was falling closer to the palm of His hand
He will always be mine
I will always be His
Our song will forever be this.

He is there.
He is the power
Of the very core that is me.
Without Him I am nothing.
With Him I am everything.

So why is it all so hard to understand?
That we will always be walking hand in hand
Even in the darkest times
Even when the sun shines.