You wouldn't believe if you saw my hands, calloused, worn.
Steeped in the blood of all my dead dreams.
Shot one by one in a row like guilty offenders.

The wrinkles on my face, each a tale of their own, of seas crossed and mountains climbed, hopes dashed and tossed into the Ocean.

You  wouldn't believe if you saw my feet blistered, cracked.
Dyed purple for I was a slave,
treading on beauty and squeezing the juices out of it.

My body is a map with highs and lows, mountains and valleys, ridges and troughs all leading to the same direction.

You wouldn't believe if you saw my eyes, empty but for light.
Hope still shines there, through the cracks.

These are my hands and feet, my face and my body but you wouldn't believe if you saw my eyes.  

disclaimer: Typed on my phone late at night 😊
Credit: Superfamous Studios (
Why are you angry?, Why is your face downcast? If you do what is right, will you not be accepted? (Genesis 4:6 -7a)

Sacrifices and offerings,
they have left burn marks all over my skin.
Little gifts offered to you out of selfishness
I offered them,
eye-service to the God of the universe.

I am in a losing race here.
At the sound of the gun I took off
running in the wrong direction while you looked on.
The crowd cheered me on but you, a lone figure,
you shook your head at me.

Having a form of godliness but denying its power
I strutted around, clothed in self and drowning in it.
Always learning, but never coming to the knowledge of truth
with one and a half eye on the world, secretly hoping you noticed.
I know Cain

I know the struggle,
fighting to please, fighting to do as I please, always fighting.
Till these sacrifices and offerings that leave me scorched
pile up to here and I am frustrated
I know that man!

But if you do not do what is right, sin is crouching at your door, it desires to have you, but you must rule over it (Genesis 4:7b)

I see you desire humility and I am empty of it,
the spirit being willing but the flesh always weak
I think I understand him.

Yet grace abounds in leaps
and because if it I am not him.
Enough of always trying and never succeeding
You said victory is mine and it belongs to me

sin is crouching at your door...but you must rule over it

Then I must be a queen and these must be my subjects
left to discard as I please, or hold if I wish.
I choose your life and your spirit within me
so direct the flames to these offerings that make no sense,
reduce them to ashes and let them be no more

I know Cain but we are not the same.

more on the usual issue...

Love, where do we find you?
Under the bed?
In the closet?
On the shelf?
Where are you kept?

Or perhaps you're on the bed?
In between the sheets?
In a whisper, in an embrace?
In a kiss or in words?
is that where you rest?

Love, where do you hide?
Even after the ring,
the I dos, the I love yous,
The forever promises
you still stay hidden.

Even after invincibility,
opulence and influence
you continue to elude us,
as if you're a paradox,
our ultimate contradiction.

Can't live and love.
The perfect absolute
can't give and get.
What makes us leave,
what makes us stay.

Love, where do we find you?

The search for love is the single most powerful motivation behind everyone's drive in life. There are millions of literature, songs and artistic compositions around this topic making it a cliche subject to bring up, yet every second a gesture/expression is made in an attempt to reach out, call out and ask for love, to love. Not just romantic love but love on all levels. Starting at the home, in our hearts, in our environments and further on.

We are all travelers on a journey seeking this abstract idea. Behind our eyes lay the longing and we search and scrutinize every face we meet, like scavengers, hoping to find a glimpse. We seek love, not just of itself, but love that is for us: a personalized, individualized love that remains constant in every area of our lives.

I haven't found anything more absolute than this: ...God is love (1 John 4:8b). What could be clearer than this, this is love. This is where it is. No need to search further.

I remember you back then,
you were never innocent.
You had that gleam in your eyes,
skin glowing with hidden desires-
you were never innocent,
you used to play with fire.
Held your fingers too close to the flames
nervous giggles as the temperature rose
jerking back quickly when you got too close
and laughing hysterically, it was all a game.

Till you got burned.

Ah, there used to be such fire in your heart.
You would poke it, stoking it till it arose-
feeding it with wood, fuel and coal,
till the day it burned you and you got cold
what happened to you?
Don't say age, you never got old
yet your present is your past's shadow
What happened to you?

Or maybe you're peeling?
reeling from your past's dealings?
maybe all this time I got it wrong,
maybe you're phoenix and you're rising-
from the ashes, you're emerging
Is that you? maybe I got it wrong
is that your skin shedding?
sliding off your your back, slipping?

Man, I swear I thought I lost you
But you're becoming brand new.

You are a King


Raised from dust, crafted by the hands of the Master Himself
He set you high on your throne, apart and filled with power
I see power when I look at you
Body glistening under the hot sun as you pull your weight
Forehead creased in a frown as you create
you create, just like He first created

I rub red dirt between my palms and let them fall to the ground
in the hot afternoon heat, I watch your figure emerge.
First a blur, I try to discern you, your purpose
The reason he put you here first, before me
Tracing the soil with my fingers, you appear
All that I am not and never will be.


I am faced with my inadequacies, my inabilities
and for the first time I see in you, all that I need.
The half to this whole lies in your heart, waiting to be explored
a journey of self discovery I watch you embark on.
With an iron grip and an unrelenting heart
you brave the storms, steering your ship through dangerous tides
while wielding the strength of a thousand oceans,
yet you come out clean.


It amazes me to see hands callused from the helm
gently caress and care, your heart filled with compassion
as you are moved by the plight of others, then
I watch you, completely awestruck,
as you humble yourself, kneel before your God
and pour out every bit of yourself.
Shrouded in pure honesty and vulnerability.
I watch you and in that moment I see we are the same,
We are two halves melting into each other,
forming a whole.

You are a King,
I recognize you now as my vision gets clearer.
Raised from dust, crafted by the hands of the Master Himself
he set you high on your throne, apart, and gave you rule.
Wiping the dirt off my hand, I say a silent prayer for you.
I pray you never forget.

This is a love poem, from Woman to Man. I realize I am surrounded by great men in my life, my father being number one, who will lay down their lives for their families and surrender themselves completely to God first. They are incredibly strong, yet incredibly loving and that amazes me, so I decided to write an ode to those men. They remind me of God's love for us as well. A pillar of fire when He needs to be and a soft and gentle whisper at other times, yet with one motivation: his great love for us. 

Stay blessed.

What's causing you to bite your nails little one?
Lost in thought and completely zoned out?
Is it the worries that so conveniently camp out on your shoulders?
The wariness that starts from the pit of your stomach
and wells up in a storm over your heart,
leaving lines and crisscrosses across your face?

What's causing you to shift your eyes so, little one?
Has the journey suddenly become unbearable?
Is it so overwhelming the waves of despair?
Has foreboding become a familiar omen?
hanging in the air like a clear cloud,
seducing you into slow suicide as it tugs at your heartstrings?

What's biting at you my love?

Did you dig yourself a pit in a puddle?
Are you finding it hard to breathe, are you struggling?
Have you searched for a solution but come short?
And a hurricane has become your heart
shielding you from sunshine, my love?
are you lost?
Have your repeated efforts failed you?
The solutions you thought answers, eluded you?
The path you picked for yourself, become a dead end?

Is there nowhere left to go?
Nothing left to do?
Has the world's offerings expired
and their senseless ways left you tired?
Have you suddenly realized the frailty of man
and the mistakes that get repeated over time?
Are you looking for a way out?
Is it that time?

                                                                                           Come to me.

Like the fishermen do on the edge of their boats, hearts hopeful and expectations held high, they cast their nets into the sea, praying for sustenance to come swimming in. Waiting, hoping, expecting.

 He says again, waiting, patient                                         Come to me

Cast your cares on the Lord and He will sustain you. He will never allow the righteous to be shaken (Psalm 55:22)

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