Tell me that it’s easy,
To rise up each morning at the break of dawn
To set your knees in that spot in the mat
With the perfect grooves made from wear;
A testament to the consistency with which they carry
The weight of your desperation and dreams.
Tell me how you’ve gotten used to the familiar aches –
The pain of the strain of holding a position
That under different circumstances would be called corporal punishment;
Hands clasped underneath chin,
Elbows scraping the edge of the bed…
But none of these compare to the aches
That rampage in places the eye cannot see;
None of these compare to the screams that no ear hears –
None, except One.
There’s a song furnished in my heart this dawn;
It is a song of pain and tragedy;
It is a song of unfailing and faithful love;
It is a song both marred and perfected
In my lack of complete understanding and full appreciation.
It is an old song, but seems new every morning;
It carries the weight of hope and is full of promises and possibilities.
It promises such great things and calls for me to be bold and courageous;
It calls for me to step out in faith and complete trust.
Thirteen minutes ago, I got a call.
It wasn’t good news, Granny was ill,
And I somehow knew this was going to be the last time.
We spoke over the phone, and she said not to come over;
The voice was Nanny’s voice as I remember it,
But it carried something more now,
A certain weight I couldn’t place,
Though she sounded frail also…it was the strangest thing.
Nanny spoke like I’ve never heard her speak before,
And I listened as if I was in a trance:
“God is never surprised by the kind of prayers we pray; He is well aware He came to hear broken people. He ignores the selfishness, ignorance, bitterness, and unbelief; and keeps whispering, ‘My child, this too shall pass; Morning is nigh’.” – Makafui.
It began with weak breath – presumed death;
Then serendipity brought hope that led to disappointment.
But desperate faith called forth something unlikely –
The gradual correction of an apparent design flaw
Hidden from view, known to few, but with lasting effects.
These are matters of the heart…literally.
“The deepest of desires are the hardest to express, in words or otherwise. They come out in groans and tears, mental screams and physical constrictions, emotional turmoil and spiritual agitation. Which is why true and earnest prayer can not be restricted to words, else our deepest needs will rarely be met.” – Makafui.
My muse is a beautiful maiden, the most ravishing demoiselle;
Exquisite beyond description; Wise beyond compare – without peer;
Her smile carries the sun, the moon, the stars, every source of light;
Her words are soothing, sublimely subtle,
Poignantly apt, incisively noninvasive, completely compelling;
She is the perfect picture of contradictions dressed in paradoxes,
Crowned with the ultimate enigma, surrounded by barely unveiled mysteries;
Her steps are silent, even the dust isn’t disturbed if she wills it so.
She walks with the grace of a majestic feline,
And the stately elegance of a sunrise.
There’s a sound that echoes from the earth on days like today;
It spans the spectrum of the audible to the inaudible,
And emanates from the animate and the inanimate.
It is such a unique breathtaking sound:
A rolling, roaring, rushing, rising, whirling, spreading,
Bubbling, soul-stirring, ascending cascade of thoughts and postures;
A sound tellingly tangible and very visible in the right light.
It is filled with demands, accusations, confessions, flatteries,
Mirth, sadness, pain, reverence, disdain, affront, gratitude;
And an inexhaustible list of other states of the human condition,
Together with the various states and cries of nature.
“This is an ancient call framed with the urgency of the times;
Don’t stagnate; Don’t give up; Don’t drift from Me; Don’t hide;
Do not trade the sounds of Heaven for profane babblings;
Do not leave your post, discard your armour, or forget your place.
“Most times, simple words of encouragement help. They might appear to drop like seeds into an abyss, and get lost in a sea of negative emotions or ample apathy; But with prayer, these seeds do die in the abyss, then spring up as trees of hope. The more seeds you throw into the abyss, and the more prayer you water them with, the more likely you are to see trees of hope spring up in the not too distant future.” – Makafui.