It’s two o’clock in the morning. Not exactly the most productive time for writers (at least not this one :)), but I’ve been feeling led to write a little something about struggles. So, in the style of my grandfather and mentor, Meredith…here’s a little free-verse. Thank you, LeRoy Dean, for inspiring me to delve back into my poetry roots.
Black tendrils of nothingness well up from the deepest recesses of your soul.
In their near-overwhelming power, they threaten to consume you…
Snuff out your spirit.
In the distance, surrounded by the emptiness, seems small at first.
On your knees…coaxing it into life as kindling becomes a bonfire.
Larger and larger it grows, finding every dark spot.
It fills you with such brilliance that you have no choice
But to glow with His mercy and grace.
I will be the light for my God.