Thinkaboutits

Isn't is a bit unnerving that doctors call what they do "practice?"

Why do people who lose their temper, 'fly off the handle'? And what were they doing sitting on a handle to start with?

Echoes

Guns sound off outside
Leaving empty echoes
That reverbrate through the night
And slumber eludes me
As sounds of war
Steal my peace.
I am wounded.
For though my body
Remains whole,
Unblemished,
My soul lays bleeding.
And my heart,
It weeps tears of blood
Because it might not be
My mother, my brother,
my sister, my friend,
But it might be
The friend of a friend
Who reaches thier end
When the echoes end.

Saved

The mind is a dangerous place
Or it can be when one is
Left alone to dwell in aloneness,
Left to draw upon themselves
And into themselves
For that which they seek
Which is not of themselves.
The mind is a dangerous place
Or it can be when the heart
Is left empty like vacant rooms
Left to dwell in the echo of what once was
Repeating the same mistakes
Over and over again.... like an echo.
mistake.... take... take... ache... ache...
The mind is a dangerous place
Or it can be when one is
Left to dwell in aloneness.....
Once I dwelt in aloneness
Trying to do the impossible,
To find within myself
That which was never of myself.
I struggled because I was empty
After a lifetime of bearing the brunt
Of everyone's mis....takes...aches
I was an empty shell
Left with only an echo
Mistake.... take.... take.... ache.... ache.
And then I found him.
The mind is not a dangerous place.
It is the garden where he
Cultivates my heart
And nurtures my soul.
Because the him of whom I speak
Is Jesus who now lives in me
So I no longer need search
Outside of myself
For that which makes me whole
Because in becoming free
of the echoes
The mistakes.... takes.... aches
I became a vessel
Filled with everything that I needed
To repair the mist.... takes.... aches
To become uncracked, untainted
New again, whole again, saved again,
Born again.