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.

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