Category: Poetry
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She’s growing up… and it isn’t fair.The older she gets, the more you’re there.Your smile, your laugh, the way she stands—It’s like life traced you with smaller hands. I tried to run. I changed my pace.But I still find you in her face.Every time I look into her eyes,I’m staring straight at old goodbyes. I…
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She didn’t leavebecause she stopped loving him. She leftbecause she couldn’t keepbegging loveto feel like love. She stayed. Longer than she should have. She hoped. Longer than she should have. She believedthat if she loved harder… gave more… asked for less… one day,she’d finally feel chosen. But lovewas never supposedto feel this lonely. So she…
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She never wanted riches. Never diamonds. Never a bigger house. Never a fuller bank account. She wanted to be loved. Not tolerated. Not convenient. Not almost. Loved. The kind of lovethat reaches for your handwithout thinking. The kind that says,“You’re home.” She spent her lifebuilding everythingeveryone said would matter. The career. The family. The home.…
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At nineteen, I held a tiny handWhile whispers filled the room—They spoke of roads I’d never walkAnd futures sealed in gloom. They said my dreams were slipping fast,That life had veered off track,As if the love I carried closeWas something I should lack. But no one saw the quiet truthThat time would come to show—Some…
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She’d heard a thousand country songsOn dusty roads and summer drives,About wild hearts and steady loveAnd stories stitched to simple lives. But every tune would fade awayLike echoes drifting on the breeze—Until the day she met his smileAnd felt her heart fall into key. He was a sunrise on the fields,Strong and steady, warm and…
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I hear You, God.In the quiet.In the pull I can’t ignore.I don’t know what You’re planning —but I know it’s more. More than I feel ready for.More than I understand.More than this shaking in my chestor these trembling hands. You’ve been too good to me.Too kind when I ran.Too faithful in my failureto ever doubt…
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I’m sitting here in the stillness, quiet before Your throne,Laying down my heart, Lord, every plan I’ve known.I tell You, use me, shape me, however You choose,Not my will, not my way — I have nothing to lose. Holy Spirit, prepare me for all You will ask,For the hidden battles and the unseen task.Make me…
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You say faith is fiction,A myth passed down through fear,But history doesn’t trembleWhen the name of Jesus appears. Not a legend whispered loosely,Not a tale that fades with time—He split the calendar in two,Even skeptics mark His line. Born under Roman record,Crucified in public view,Tacitus wrote it, Josephus too—Not believers, yet they knew. A carpenter…
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Long before Bethlehem had a name,Before Rome raised a throne,Before a cross ever touched the sky—The story was already written. Born of a virgin — Isaiah said it.Born in Bethlehem — Micah called it.Betrayed for silver — Zechariah knew the price.Pierced hands.Broken body.Silent lamb before His killers —David saw it a thousand years before it…
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This book?It’s not just a book. It’s 66 books,written by 40 authors,over 1,500 years,on three continents —Asia, Africa, Europe —yet it tells one story with one voice. Kings wrote it.Shepherds wrote it.Prophets, prisoners, poets, fishermen.Different lives.Different languages.Different centuries. But somehow…the same message. That’s not coincidence.That’s coordination. From Genesis to Revelation,every page points forward —to a…
FIREPLACE POETRY 