Blackout
Blackout (travelling at night in an area familiar in daylight)
James 1:17 17 All generous giving and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights,
with whom there is no variation or the slightest hint of change.
Why the darkness at times? … For our better understanding?
Here I go full of confidence … a little uncertain however
Pretty sure of where I’m going … but will I ever get there
Darkness my circumference … not thinking I would ever
Lose my memory and its flow to see blackness everywhere
Panic of flesh then besets me as security seems all gone
Faith for a moment left me depending on my flesh alone
Realization now begets me, that the memory of God’s Son
He can give or take at any time … before the day is done
I suddenly start to realize … all can be taken fast away
Even my love to sympathize … may not be here to stay?
The ability to know and memorize our dues to pay
May leave as soon as we criticize … neighbors along the way
Memory and remembering are not personal possessions
Although it seems to be our own, it’s not ours to demand
It can be easily taken away in an unexpected intersession
As we pray in our own will with our flesh too close at hand
We ignore the probability … that our mind is not our own
Living on borrowed time … seems of little recognition
All of us seem the same … as though we all are cloned
Not even realizing the possibility … of deep inner-derision
And so we muddle on in the self-made pond of mire
Thinking of purpose and call with ears that cannot hear
Hoping that others not notice the darkness of our desires
About a paradise where only we rule … like we love it here
Empty barrels are as noisy as the addiction to our-selves
We seem to reason and dream about fortune and fame
Then we would make a difference with a bible on a shelf
Although seldom opened … we depend here on God’s name
Surely even our senses here … are not to keep us clueless
Although even in that … I don’t seem to understand the call
Eyes to see, ears to hear and perception of the spiritual mess
that formed in our religiousness … that we created after all
It seems so with memory or the little intelligence used
It is here for us for a while till we have to pay are dues
Sub-consciousness another … luckily beyond own abuse
As time and time again we show, that we have no clues
Maybe the great difference … between good, evil and addiction
Is not to be understood … but to experience through pain
Barely comprehended … but to be accepted in affliction
As surely we don’t seem to see beyond love of personal gain
Jan Wienen