"It all started when..."
That's how stories begin,
Isn't it?
But how do you know
Just where it starts
Or just when it ends?
I'm not sure I have a beginning,
Not a true one
That wakes you up
And makes you think
Something new is coming...
Maybe I don't have a story...
It's not as though
Anyone is truly listening...
But it's not as though
I am truly telling,
So I guess it's fair
That no one is here-
Right here, right now,
Begging to know who I am...
But if there was never a start,
I suppose I can't end,
At least not in a way
That anyone would care...
But I'm starting to think
That I've got it all wrong.
You see, maybe I'm not the writer,
No, not at all
Because He is the writer...
Yes, there's a beginning,
So there's a story and an end,
But every last part
Is the exact same:
God loved me.
God loves me.
God will always love me.
My beginning, middle, and end,
Reflecting off each other,
Shining with the truth
I never seem to see...
So yes, I suppose it all works...
It all started when
God loved me,
Loved me enough
For His Son to die
All those years ago.
Yes, He loved me enough
To bring me into this world,
And my story He's writing,
Saying He still loves me,
Enough to follow me-
Lead me, through my darkness,
Forgiving me,
Picking me up
Every time I fall,
And I fall a lot.
He wraps His arms around me
In the middle of cold nights,
A holy blanket
Of eternal warmth.
Someday my story may end,
At least this mortal one,
And it will end:
"He still loves me."
Then I'll join Him,
And that will be the end
So far as I can say...
Yes I suppose I have a story,
And it's looking pretty great
Because I'm not the author,
And the Author,
Well, He loves me.
YOU ARE READING
Random Thoughts
PoetryThis is kind of just my brain and random thoughts I feel like sharing with someone in the middle of the night. Don't take any of it for more than it is because I'm always fine. Also, please don't judge the whole book by the first few poems. I promis...
