Existential Paste

 

We wander the many paths in our mind

an endless journey always learning and ever changing,

driven by gusts we can’t always understand,

held in a cerebral sphere that is composed of many chambers,

some the invention of our surroundings

with their layers of laws and rules

painted as images affecting our ideas of right and wrong.

 

But then there is the playground of the will,

that room were year to give into our desires,

keeping it hidden from the world

as if heaven can’t see deep into its air.

 

When touched by those divine winds

blown the power of the Holy Spirit

there stirs in our inner globe

a twister in passions

for trust and love of our Lord,

yet still tied to the tugs on our heart,

those little strings that spark matches

igniting flames that produce light,

guiding us away from the places

we wish to occupy in our more pious reflections.

 

The mind breathes its thoughts in tempest swirls,

twisting our sense of self rule.

In the conscience screams the scribe’s voice

of when we fall short in our thinking,

letting those dark whispers lead us

into actions we just can’t seem to control.

 

And in those moments we are reminded

if there is faith within our soul,

how grace is the Lord’s covering

that spreads even over our whims.

 

Knowing there is energy in every notion,

holding onto the joy of forgiveness

on those times our fingers fail to write a psalm

and instead produce a diary of selfishness.

 

So we dwell with a brush in our mind

able impact our life’s tapestry,

yet ever having God there with His own easel

conveying that simple assurance inspiring peace

as long as don’t forget to cherish

there can be no beauty with the ugliness

and He has the right to always edit our artistry,

celebrating the times in His mercy

He takes away some flaw before the canvas

is posted within Eternity’s frame.