Sometimes, there’s a sermon in the silence
Eloquence from empty echoes
When God chooses to communicate through the quietest whisper
When there’s peace to be achieved
Stillness, and void sound
Are the unstolen breadcrumbs that guide you home
When your brain decides to throw a block party with your thoughts
I imagine God being that one guest who showed up,
Just looking for a good conversation…
So seek for Him
In the quietness of every moment
Therein lies an opportunity
To hear Him
I sit on a set table
The faces surrounding me look unfamiliar
This grand room with shiny floors
Is a dungeon of silence
Dinner is served, sacredly
We dine together every rest day
The plates out, ceremoniously set
But within this room
There lies no rest
Can anyone break this silence?
Can we unfence our pretences and simply break… the bread?
A voice, like sour wine, graces the table…
“For what we are about to receive, may we be truly grateful.”
A tinkling interrupts the sounding brass
As my elbow accidentally knocks the stainless steel
The moment, cold as steel
But beneath our skin, blood boils
Will we ever break… the bread?
Will we ever recall at all
The reason why we maintain this awkward ritual?
I seem to remember all that is insignificant
These shiny floors
This grand room
Inside this magnificent prison,
We have set camp in the bliss of ignorance
The bread…
We don’t touch it.
We stare at it,
Become stale on its behalf
Why is that?
Our hands haven’t cracked a crust
Haven’t felt the crumbs fall like dust from our finger-tips
Nor wiped the leftovers from the sides of our mouths
Let alone shared a piece
There is bread on the table
Yet we remain unfed
Famished,
And far too many words left unsaid
We are never fully filled
By food which we aren’t hungry for…
The bread is always on offer
But now I’m starting to wonder
How long for?
This woman…
Enters the room
Reeking of the stench of yesterday’s sorrows
Her feet are the sea shores of lost captains
Looking for a place to settle on for just a short while
She’s got stories to tell
She’s laughed more than she’s cried
Lived more than she’s died
Her carnal nature is vile
But God still glows through her sun-kissed skin
As if it had it’s own smile
This woman…
Has been swimming through storms
Since she stepped out of troubled waters
She’s seen her heroines bow down to another power
And she wonders,
What’s in a woman?
Weakness is a foreign currency to females
And we’ve been inflated ever since the beginning of time
Our cries are known but unnoticed
Embodying strength and elegance
We fight stereotypes of being labelled as seductive
In a world that seems to value us for being sexually reproductive
But are we also to blame?
When we entertain and respond to being called derogatory names
Can we really complain?
When our standards descend
And our hearts remain open for simply anyone
What’s in a woman?
Women carry a worth more prestigious than fine stones
We are landmarks of Triumph. Integrity. Humility. Beauty.
Never to be merely reduced as something enticing to the male eye
God implanted power and poise
To bring up men out of boys
When men made themselves evanescent
And left women no choice
But to be strong
Women always have to be strong
For often our meekness
Is misconceived as weakness…
Woman of God,
Your imperfections make you interesting
Don’t ever apologise for having those eyes
That tell more than any man has ever seen in print
Never conceal the rivers of wisdom which flow from within
You are a light
A city on a hill
On days when your mind may drift away from this very fact
Just be still…
And know that He is God
And you are made in His image
Oh, how we get excited when we we’re in love…
The sky never looks grey,
Instead we gaze upon shades of clouds dipped in silver linings
The symphony of a dove rings harmoniously, gently welcoming you into each day
Music is the next best thing to breathing
You hear it in everything that God puts in motion
Nothing can wipe the smile off your face
Oh, how we get excited when we we’re in love…
Engulfed by the euphoria of having someone to have, and to hold
Envisioning your future and aroused with the idea of it becoming a blissful reality
Realising that you want to tell the whole world
About the one who makes your knees weak
Oh, how we get excited when we we’re in love…
Floating on the freeing sensation of joy
Of childhood dreams, clutching the hand of the one you call your other half
How their hair always looks so perfect
Just as effortlessly as the way they put a curve to your lips
Love makes you blink at faults, embracing them
Only enough as to say,
We’ll work through them together
Love will remain through the ugliness
It will stay firm on days when the music stops
For eventually,
Silence will impose itself upon you
As unsaid words seep out like air through the back tire of a car
There will be days
When starting a conversation will feel like a Monday morning
Those hands you once held like a trophy
Will feel ominously cold
But love,
beautiful hope 