All posts tagged: poem

Jesus, the Oil of Joy: A Poem by Briana Lassiter

This is a poem about the symbolic oil of Joy that is made from Myrhh and only offers it’s sweet scent once it’s been crushed. Joy on the inside, joy from within. This is joy; the joy you win. Crushed and bruised, this is released, the oil of joy, the oil of peace. The joy You’ve put into me cultivated with care, now is released. It is all you, Jesus my joy. Strength, peace, confirming, fighting, killing, declaring. These are the things that joy enables when crushed beyond belief. This is it! This is the way, this is joy. A heart that is white, a heart that is clean, a heart that is trusting, what is unseen. Friendship and love, never-ending, not losing, This is the oil, pour it over everything *Photo by MI PHAM on Unsplash By Briana Lassiter I’m married to my dearest friend of 8 years and mom to an energetic 6-year-old. My greatest joys come from traveling with my little family, cooking for appreciative recipients, learning herbalism and natural medicine, and every experience I …

Son of God Came Down: A Poem by Briana Lassiter

Son of God came down Son of Man they found triumphant over the grave Triumphant in victory God could not be bound His love He freely gave He opened up the grave He split the earth, for me to save Love of God come down Touch us with Your sound The sound of truth, the sound of grace Let us glimpse Your precious face Lead us in all truth Let us walk with You Triumphant warriors Kingdom carriers Break all barriers Light of the world; that’s You. ~Poiema, Poetry in Motion By Briana Lassiter I’m married to my dearest friend of 8 years and mom to an energetic 6-year-old. My greatest joys come from traveling with my little family, cooking for appreciative recipients, learning herbalism and natural medicine, and every experience I get to have in prayer ministry. I’m an avid tea and book lover and can’t get enough of either. I love Jesus and the daily adventure that comes from walking in friendship with him as he arranges and rearranges my story.

The Kindling Spark: Musings on Love & Romance

The look on his face The taste of his lips Was nothing short of sublime The honey-sweet savor encompassed my soul The instant his lips touched mine The first of that moment The kindling spark Birthed fire within our dance The flavor of passion In an innocent kiss Spoke whispers of Romance THE POWER OF THE KISS Kiss– If my memory serves me correctly the Hebrew word, ‘Nashaq’ used for ‘kiss’ also means ‘to kindle or ignite.’  In Syriac, ‘to smell.’ An Arabic translation for the word means, ‘to fasten together.’** Basically “To kiss is to kindle or ignite with the scent of fastening together”. (On what it means to “fasten together,” I’m going to encourage you to use your blessed imagination.) In short, WOW! Adhering to this truth, one that is not widely shared among the young in love or even those who are seasoned, I am only made to view the act of kissing as something far more sacred and special than our modern world has made it out to be. Where some …

Fall: A Poem & Musing

I love the smokey grey of the sky in Fall The rustling of the leaves Their shifting colors from dark green to orange lights The chill within the breeze I love the scent of fire that moves upon the wind Longer nights and rain that falls The touch of woolen clothing, hoodies, and pumpkins I LOVE IT ALL! Friends, it is a new season, my favorite season! Autumn or Fall. For some, this is a time of seeming woe. A time when life fades and all things slip into darkness. But just like when we have spent our time working hard and producing a job-well-done, at the end of it, we desire a well-deserved rest with (hopefully) the anticipation for something even greater in the day or days to come. Autumn is a season of rest. It is the pause in the moment, the beginning of an intermission right before the symphony of life begins again. The current of Fall comes down up Summer with the vibrancy of fire and ice. Newness is just ahead, …

Second Sight by Rachael Ritchey

The future we see through broken and twisted spectacles There is not sure sight to know the path We trip along, hoping to grasp a rail When in fact, none is to be had Not with our hands, at least Only our hearts can lead For our hearts see what Eyes cannot see Feel what hands do not feel Touch what bone cannot touch Deeper is marrow than that of bone The core of one life is beyond imagining When hearts reach out to search the blindness Our hearts can go to places our bodies are unwilling In the heart lies the soul of a man and desire to love is there Photo by Quentin Lagache on Unsplash *This poem was written by Indie Author, Rachael Ritchey. To read more of her works, including her published pieces, follow her at: Twitter: Rachael Ritchey Facebook: WritingRaci

Wisps & Willow: A Poem

Forested in by sunlight and skin My mind drifts upon dream’s meadow To turning unwind the shackles that bind Through whispers, wisps and willow. The sweet cedar kiss of dew and mist Roll gentle as the thunder Until I awake with the craving ache That tears my heart asunder I’ll heed beck and call forsaking my all For the embrace of wisps and willow. ~Candice Coates *February 2, 2016 Featured Photo by Rebecca Prest on Unsplash  

From Fire & Ashes: A Poem & Word of Faith

Oh sweet fire Oh sweet fire Burning from embers Kissed by gales of rushing wind Charred black my loveliness Til all seems lost And I must start again Bring forth new life, Oh sweet fire From death spring fertile ground In the wake of your scorching pyres Is where my future will abound Oh sweet fire ~Candice Coates From Fire & Ashes: A Word of Faith & Encouragement Fire rips through the hilly countryside, leaving devastation in its wake. All seems lost. Hope is suffocated in the thick choking smoke that rises from the ashes of what used to be treasures and dreams.  And when the orange and black fades, giving way to sunlight, nothing can be heard but mocking silence. The fire has one and all is lost. …Or is it? If you live long enough, if you haven’t already, you will drink of your fair share of disappointment. Something will come and snatch the proverbial rug from beneath your feet and leave you on your back winded. None of us are  immune to it. …