Church is poetry. Poetry is life. A life well lived.
Voices ruminate day and night,
for lusts I abandoned.
The call to pray is strong
on my knees I abide,
aware, I forgave and been forgiven.
I wrestle, guilty mind,
ringing at my soul’s door.
I pray I’ll be set free,
afraid the logical consequence
decrees the ruin of me.
2Timothy 3:3 unloving, irreconcilable, malicious gossips,
without self-control, brutal, haters of good,
Luke 26:7-8 But to you who are listening I say: Love your enemies,
do good to those who hate you,
bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.