I hope its okay with this guy that I share his poem: Ink Spot ----------- 1st Sep 2014 Ink Blot The people I see, Complacent. My words, Won’t be seen by them. At the strum of a vocal chord, The mind starts to process. Speech results in thought; A blot of ink in the middle of a blank page How the mind processes those chords, Determines how the picture looks. It all starts with that ink blot. But as soon as the ink hits, The picture, And everything it would have been, Start to implode. The canvas- It tries to erase itself. Leave me be, I am happy being blank. Life is a gift from God, after all I wouldn’t want to mess it up with my thoughts.” As if God’s purpose in giving you this beautiful brain This canvas with infinite possibilities, Infinite drawings, Was for you to leave it blank. A dead drone with needles hanging out of pale fleshy arms. A direct injection of lies, is what keeps this canvas blank. God didn’t give you that canvas, So you could have as little formed on it as possible. He gave you a mind to think, To struggle through things, How will change ever occur If you pretend like your problems aren’t there. How can belief even be, If you don’t know who you claim to believe in. The reality is, When that ink blot hits the page, Sometimes He crafts a beautiful image. To be hung in the halls of our mind, Changing us forever. It is the sight, The experience, The relationship with Him that is truth. Not a superiority complex, Inside of a mind beaten to near death, With emotional bottles and ignorance. Let the body you were given breathe, There is no image that ink could form, That would be new to Him. You aren’t the first, nor the last. Your mind doesn’t scare Him. The devil just wants it to scare you.
Posted on: Tue, 02 Sep 2014 14:58:35 +0000
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