Winning

The Lord gives me strength in all things,

I sing praises to him!

For he has never let me down,

Who can go against the Lord?

They always lose.

Always choose the living water,

I have no doubt about his.

The wind, waves, and earth move for him.

He is above all, the king!

How shall we overcome?

He already has.

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How precious am I to you O Lord,

You are the master of knowing the desires of my heart,

You listen and you give to those who are good,

How could I have never known you before?

You are everything we need in this life,

The answer to all things.

Confidence

Light spills through jalousies,

warming floorboards with one sweeping wave,

dresser, vanity, tea set, finally bed,

touching her cheeks flushed from first heat.

She tousles brown locks over her face,

huffs, “See me tomorrow!”

tucks her head into the peach blanket ruffles,

breathing in the detergent of the fresh fabric.

Brazen is the sun, determined,

which sweeps through cotton sheets,

prodding her to see the day,

birds singing in the windowpane.

She flounces her blankets off,

betrayed by heat of summer morning,

sprawls her arms to cast out tensions,

sleep energy transferring out her body.

 

The door creaks revealing an angel-haired maiden,

sweet as lilies that float away in the creek,

she whispers, “It’s time,”

then tends to the eggs and cinnamon bread.

Thus, she scurries to the closet for a fresh pick,

observing fabrics, cuts, and colors choicely,

an array of careful consideration,

while changing out of her pajamas.

She turns toward the vanity,

pinches the soft of her belly fat,

winces, eyebrows furrowed,

grimacing toward the reflection.

She focuses back to the array of patterns,

pulls a plain navy suit with gold finishings,

holds both pieces to her frame,

fidgets, poses, unsure.

 

She tips on her toes,

tilts her head to the side,

puffs out her chest for expression,

then reverts.

She studies the smooth and rough surfaces of her face,

tousles her hair in careful, cascading waves,

puckers her lips for rouge,

closes the clasps of her peep toed pumps.

She makes her way out,

pauses, hand on the door,

rushes back, once more,

searching for imperfections.

She flattens her face on the cool mirror,

leaving a nose imprint,

pulls back, revealing a dimpled smile,

then she whisks away without a second glance.

 

 

Look Up

What if focusing on what’s in front of you is actually unwise?

That looking for your answers from a textbook may not give you the right answer.

You may say, “I don’t believe in anything,

I just believe in myself,”

Or, “I believe in the man made laws given to us by the leaders of our country.”

I wonder if that would be your downfall.

Perhaps wisdom is, after all, found in one who knows all things.

After all, humans by nature are flighty, constantly making mistakes.

True wisdom exists,

Just look up and believe.