NaPo Days XIII-XVII

I thought the best way to catch up was to write a series. Here’s one–a series of Epistles to love, life, mystery, grace, and truth.

The first and last have four stanzas of alternating couplets, and the middle three have three.

 

Dear Love,

I sought you more than most
And you became my end.
Perhaps you are obscure,
Perhaps you twist and bend
Much more than I would like,
Much more than life requires.
Come back and sweetly stir
The candles into fires.
My first I have forgotten
My last is yet the same.
The day-to-day unveiling
Of all done in your name
Leaves me the fool, the guarded.
Oh love, you do not boast.
You wait and watch my progress
For I need you more than most.

 

Dear Life,

You lose me in the moment
And the anger of my start.
I dwell within your reaches
Yet you stand far from my heart.
I find you yet a mystery
And wish you’d let me rest.
But you’ve breathed in me a passion 
And you’ve given me your best.
Let me inhale the particles
Of daylight we go through
And let me keep on walking
Where I’ll run right into you.

 

Dear Mystery,

You hide behind the product
Of a deep, deep kind of grace
And love and life are artists
Who compliment your face.
I love your little raindrops
And the heartache in the stars.
I love the breathless wonder
In the places where you are.
You tangle me in cobwebs
And electrify my dreams.
I hope your touch will make me
Much more than what I seem.

 

Dear Grace,

Without your touch I’m hopeless
And full of vain regrets
In your absence all my stumbling
Deserves whate’er it gets.
But you wrap me in a blanket
Of mercy and of light
To let go of all my failings,
To accept the day and night
That comes in truth to pilgrims
In life and love, on roads
Where to walk without your promise
Is to bear a heavy load.

 

Dear Truth,

I seek you more than mystery
And sometimes more than grace
For you stand above the cosmos
And refuse to be erased.
I personify your presence
As the presence of pure light
For you radiate your glory
For the ones in endless night.
I seek you in the pages
Of great wisdom, of great minds
And I seek you in the presence
Of the poorest, old, and blind.
Lend credence to those others
Such as mystery and love,
For in you, where’er you prosper,
The wise will have enough.

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