I love poetry in a deep way. Not a because-it’s-pretty way. More like it’s-like-fairy-magic-to-me way. I can’t always understand the ways the words come together into a dance, and that’s part of what I love about it. So, here’s my attempt at some slam poetry without the (necessary but terrifying) performance part, lol.
Hights of love and depths of grace,
wandering knowledge of heavenly place,
Where do I begin?
How to know, and when?
To be a holder
of the knowledge of truth,
to be charged to speak bolder
of the one who for you
gave it all
answered His call
paid the price scorning the shame,
and I no longer bear the blame.
The mystery of all of this
is mine to carry, to share, till bliss
finally comes for my tired form
and struggle not against perilous morn.
That I should even share a piece
of knowledge in my disgrace
is the beginning of my eternal peace
and a true example of holy grace.