The Light

Fog covered morning just before sunrise on a farm.

The Light brings out the poems in me.
Like some distillation, some percolating process,
the sun shines on my skin and
then poetry begins seeping from my

Words flow lovely from fingertips,
ink on pages, sometimes cryptic
but sometimes clear, so clear
you could consume them and know
the very deepest, sweetest depths
of me.

Transparency was frightening for the
longest while, like a boogey-man fear,
exposure felt always near and
I was so afraid.
I didn’t know that I protected my own darkness.
I didn’t know the walls I had erected
in attempts of self protection,
were exactly what allowed the fright a place
to stay.

Longing for the light, but scared of the peril that lived
under the bed, “They’ll know you and they won’t
love you, and neither will your Maker,”
A dark-dweller, terrified of my own shadow,
living in the shadow of everything but The Almighty,
no identity stuck to me but the one
that called me lost and hiding.

But then The Light,
found me.
With His Permeating perfection,
blaring and glaring.
Exposed me in the gentlest way.
Shone hard and searching, a light that
starts from the inside out.
The kind that busts in walls and
causes dark to flee.
He came like a flood and
made me an all new, fearless and bold
and wild
Afraid of nothing but distance
from Him.

I love the mornings.
Every morning, a new rebirth,
a fresh reminder that the light
wins every time.

When I open my eyes,
in the peaceful moments before sons demand breakfast,
As a rooster’s crow floats in
windows and brown curls
tangle around my face,
as the man I call min
lays with a bronzed arm slung over
my baby-stretched belly,
I am wooed by it all.

This picture of redemption that is
my life, it is lovely in such an all-encompassing
way. A whole entire
life imbued with beauty,
but the part that romances my heart more than
the rest is the light.

Golden in the evening and blinding in the morning. Hot or cold, rain
or shine, the day breaks,
everyday. He breaks through.
And as often, I pray, let me be a light-carrier.
Let me be a reflection of the sun, the Son, the shining one.
Let me birth it into the darkness,
overcoming the bondage.
Would you let me see the fearful set free?

He answered me, not in a flicker,
but a blaze.
And said, yes, you are mine.
I have shone on you,
now shine.

Shine, little light.

Fog covered morning just before sunrise on a farm.
I want to share this beautiful life with others and teach them the lessons we've learned along the way. Welcome to Roots and Refuge, friend. I am so glad you're here.

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