There are many cryptic poems out there; those which you have to reread many times to finally understand what’s going on. To be honest, I enjoy such pieces. Just not when it’s my own! 😀

I wrote ‘Unveiling’ a while back and stumbled across it in my notebook the other day.

“Nairobi we have a problem! …Sema kusoma mara tano!”

I couldn’t even remember one bit of what I was driving at, but thank Jesus (dramatic pause for effect) He always has the situation under control. [Insert superhero music] 😉 And ‘for I have the mind of Christ’, I eventually figured it all out! B)

Just to share a bit of what I learnt from the poem; the work at the Cross was just beautiful. We are now freely allowed into His presence and can experience His manifested glory each second! How cool is that?

But things like pride get in the way.

You know, the core of sin is I. *literally and metaphorically*

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I this…I that…

It’s a battle we all have to endure. One within self.

To fix our eyes on Him or to remain affixed on our stain-filled images in the mirror.

>> PS-If you haven’t realized by now [plus my classmates can attest to this], I love the heart! Anatomy, physiology…you name it!  So let me apologize, prior to your reading, for the cardiovascular imagery that goes on in the poetry! I couldn’t resist it. 🙂  <<

Barikiwa!


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THE UNVEILING

The curtain hung loose, draping majestically like tapestry,

The work it hid must be the epitome of beauty manifested.

“But what is this that remained veiled,

Still unperceived yet so much power it vested?

Would it still be as great, beautiful and valuable if we saw it?”

So questioned my heart.

.

My heart.

The pressure built.

To open or not to open.

To provide or not to provide.

The blood came gushing out, with plates of wonder.

The cook had outdone himself, cooked up a storm.

The waiter rushing out, with platters of food of thunder.

My eyes glistened at the plate, let’s eat as the norm.

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I gulped down bite after bite,

Mmmmh…perfection at its height.

My eyes filled with light.

Beaming with pride, I tip and leave.

And live each day, just sip and sieve.

“Man, I can afford it!”

.

Days,

Months,

The reaction begins.

My heart throbbing,

I’m a cardio guru; now what?

.

Pro-thrombin. That’s what!

The cascade begins.

My arteries clog.

Full of cholesterol.

Becoming narrower and narrower…

Pride-sterol.

My ego larger and larger…

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Heavily I breathe.

My heart is heavy.

As heavy as a boulder,

My shoulder!

.

1–2–BEEP!

1–2–BEEP!

Awaiting a pulse…

A coma.

“Do we put a comma?

A punctuation.

Death acceleration?”

.

No… Hallucination.

Back to the restaurant.

Where I could choose to rest or runt.

What could have made me sick?

Was it that I didn’t seek?

I had set goals, but not my mind to Him.

Only worldly goals I had come to…

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Come to.

Conscious.

All hazy but it clears out.

No more split images,

Just a split curtain.

.

I am now safe and sound.

My heart has found,

A sweet haven in His presence.

.

Presents, flowers, fruits all around.

Wrapped in cling film firmly bound.

To none else shall I cling, only to thee.

.

Upon my hospital bed I think of thee,

Meditate on Your Word in the watches of the night.

At each wake and in all the strife,

Your love, Oh Lord, is better than life.

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