WAITING FOR CHANGE

Stranded…in the middle of somewhere.

Waiting for something I can’t see,

but I know is coming.

I can feel its immense pressure building.

I can feel the shaking ground from its stampede.

I am frozen as a deer in headlights,

unable to move out of its way.

As I open for impact, I am bracing for its impact.

In limbo…in the middle of somewhere.

Waiting for something I can’t see,

but I know is coming.

What shall things be?

What shall become of me?

I do not know the answer to these things.

All I know is I am waiting for change.

 

© 2010 Groshonda McDonald



STUBBORN HEART

Why do you twist and turn,

even as you long and yearn?

Why do you struggle and strain,

even as you cling to His name?

Why do you flit and flutter,

even as you wait for Him to utter?

Why do you resist and rebel,

even as you pray to be whole and well?

Why do you fret and fear,

even as you pray for an opened ear?

Why do you ask and doubt,

even as you try to figure things out?



FREE

The collective pains, Lord,

somehow got all tangled up

with my perception and image I have of

“me”.

Tell me something, does this freedom you speak of,

of that pain will I be free?

The acquired regrets, Lord,

somehow got all messed up

and confused my perception and image I have of

“me”.

Tell me something, does that freedom you speak of,

of those regrets will I be free?

The accumulated hurts, Lord,

somehow got all wrapped up

in the perception and image I have of

“me”.

Free of those things will your freedom

make possible for me?

©2010 Groshonda McDonald

BATTLE

Me and my son and the battles lost and won.

Who’s in charge at any given time is,

I’m ashamed to say debatable.

My un-sureness, masked as authority, to his sharp eye,

is more often than not, detectable.

His eleven-year old wisdom, at times,

reveals my forty-one year old wisdom as deflatable.

And the reason that comes from his mouth,

at those times, is most convicting and detestable.

So I grudgingly hand him the win with an attitude

similar to, but not quite, respectable.

And I choose another battle.

© 2010 Groshonda McDonald