Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Jealousy - (of Dave, who got to sit where CS Lewis sat and what God told him there)

"You belong here,"
You told him
"You're one of them,"
As he sat
In the seats
In the very room
Where great writers
Once sat.
"No fair," I quip.
"I want You to
Confer upon me
The identity of
Being a writer,
A thinker,
An expresser
Of great truths!"
I'm happy for him
On the outside
But growl inside
Longing
For You, God
To tell me
Who I am
What gift I can
Offer You --
Offer to others.
Yet I know
Somewhere deep down
I've always known
I too am
Called to write.

Break the dam
In me
Father God!
I resist
Because I feel
Inadequate
Let the words
Flow
Like the river before me
Flows
Unhindered by fear
Pulsing with
Movement
Generated by
The power of
Your Love.
I'm tired of
Stubbornly
Refusing to be
Who I'm made
To be!
I don't know quite how
To receive the gift
Don't trust myself to
Use the gift
Work with me
Patient Teacher.

Diane Mann, 2012

Temple

Zion National Park
Hats off
Heads bowed
Lifted
Then lowered again
Hands folded
Creator bids
We enter
Are seated
Settled
Ushered to the arena
Of this place
This leaf-decorated
Holy space
My heart expands
From shoulder
To shoulder
It can hold no more
Green, gold -- blazing gold --
Orange
And that indescribable red
Bright, warm
Deep, rich beauty
Dizzying, dazzling loveliness
Mangling me
In a way that is really good
Rearranging me
Can I look upon You
God of all, God of me
And ever be the same?
I think not
So I sit
And gaze at Your works
You'll forgive me
Won't you
If I must look away
For a moment
To catch my breath
Then look upon Your splendor
Once again?
And if this pen,
My hand, my mind
Stop working in unison
To express
My utter adoration
It's because we don't
Know what else
To say
So will quietly
Rest
And simply
Bow.

Diane Mann, 2012

The Wall

I've been here before
Temple of Sinawava, Zion National Park
Having followed
Accepting the invitation
Wide eyed
Open hearted
Hope filled
Stepping down a new path
Skipping
Receptive
Joyful
Trusting
So very trusting
I entered
With the promise
Of Your Presence
To then suddenly
Cruelly
Slam up against
A wall
Hard, crashing
Huge
Damning
Dark
There I wait
Befuddled
Horrified
Confused
Hope drained
I lean flat
Against its
Surface cold
I pound
I scream
Sobbing
From parts of my Soul
I didn't know
Existed
Will the tears
Ever stop?
Banging my head against
The rock
Desperately
Wondering what
Happened, where
Did I turn wrongly?
Exhausted I can
Flail about no more
I hear a rhythmic
Beat of a heart
Jesus
It's Your heart
A distant song
Becomes clearer
Louder than my
Cries I am quieted
With Love resting on
The Chest of
Jesus, My Rock.

Diane Mann, 2012