Spoken Word

The Questioning Reflection

This prayer or spoken word is meant to bring forth the ongoing struggle many of us face when we feel pulled between selfless work of advocacy and servitude and being consumed with one’s own problems. It is meant to reflect the trends of our generation that speak vigorously, truly inspired, but don’t always know in their heart of hearts if they mean and would live out what they claim with their tongues.

Jesus,

Give me the heart of a refugee.
Their resilience and positivity.

But honestly, do I truly mean and want this
When I ask it from thee?

Some days I am convinced
It is my route to your glory.

Words I write in vain,
Not all,
But some
I’ve definitely spoken with passion,
Then let them be slain,

By my personal ambition
Or condition,
Of focusing more on my mirror
And less on your heart-filled mission, whole mission.

Amen.

~<>~

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The Empathy in You

Empathy.
How do you help me?
You can’t help?
No “woe is me”,
Just please don’t spit upon me sympathy.
“You’re okay”, “but at least..” you say
That my feelings aren’t real
And my pain should lay
Quiet until you’re gone.

Empathize and join me in the pit,
Down here ain’t no room for sympathy spit.
I’m real. You’re real. We’re human and pain is a thing.
Sometimes supposed sayings of comfort leave less of a calm and more of a sting.
So tell me my feelings are valid and present,
Connect with me via a feeling in you that understood my vent.
I’ll remind you of my hope in Jesus and you’ll realize all along
That empathy does not endorse self pity but sings a prophetic song.

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Rise and Wonder

Proud of my early rising; the first body in the house to stir.
The morning sunshine is my daily splash of cold water—invigorating and awaking body, soul and mind for the day.

So I venture out for my walk.
My path, usually tread by running feet of mine, is an ugly beat up gravel road beside a ditch holding garbage treasures.
But in the early day, it’s a glorious auditorium facing the stage of the sunrise.

My morning tradition of oil-pulling restricts my lips from uttering a word or singing a note, though my head is filled with thoughts and my heart with a song.
Perhaps silence is the best symphony.

Halfway down my road I perch beneath a tree, the only one of its kind.
Leaning on a branch, I gaze into the growing daylight.

I think of a somebody… Maybe two. I think of my Jesus. What do each of these mean to me? How have I shown them so?

This poetic wording of sorts begins forming in my head. I reach for that electric device we entrust to capture our lives, finding it to be still at home asleep…

Feelings of gratitude and disappointment wash over. Will my memory do its job and cling to these words in my head for me? It’s been as a slacking, lazy employee lately and I’m afraid I’ve been the overbearing, impatient employer…
Unwilling to teach and repair, willing to implode.

I look forward. Shall my walk finish the running route?

I look back. Dreaming has a time limit. It’s time to return and face my day.

Loveliness captures my eyes so I stop to take it for myself. The golden petaled stems stick to my fingers like sap, as if to punish me for breaking them from their root of life.

I move on only to swoop low for some lavender. Pick and sniff, only to be greeted by a pungent odor. Lavender ’twas not. Punished yet again.

I suppose some forms of beauty were not meant to be mobile.

Home I continued… Releasing my mouth to speak and choosing silence as the better option. Perhaps such a choice would reserve my words and thoughts for paper and pen such as this goes.

Thus begins another day of living with the potential of being worthy of ink at the end.

-Amelia MaySun

 

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Stranger in the City

City blues.Travel far and wide,
Can’t pick all the cues.
I come to explore you,
I intend to find out,
Who and what
You are all about.

Dynamics and diversity,
They rage and range.
I’m sensing new in this place,
Many others feel strange.
For they’ve come from a land
With far greater gap
In culture, weather, and aptitude
Than from where I fall on the map.

Semi-stranger me
meeting fully-stranger they,
At the end of the day we’re each humans
Needing acceptance and support day by day.

#arriveministries #worldrelief #refugees #welcomethestranger #lovethestranger #wearethestranger

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Water.Land.Sky.Joy.

Joy.
Unspeakable joy spilling from see-able places.
Water, land, and sky flood in through my eyes,
Trickling  down into the depths of my heart.

In this place my mind is bypassed.
How could a human brain comprehend this joy anyway?

There is a catalyst in my soul,
A distinct key.
Observing the beauty and mystery
Of the Artist’s glories simply betrays me
To unspeakable,
Indescribable,
Who knows from whence it came,

JOY.

 

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