“The First Poem”

by Rachel Huddleston

 

In the beginning

God created

         the heavens and the earth.

 

And the earth

was void and formless

without

         shape

                  color

                           or life

 

and all of it came to be

         through words.

 

The beginning was a

         long time ago

Our earth has grown

         developed

                  changed

But at times still seems

         dark

                  empty

                           and barren.

 

but within us lies

         words.

In the beginning

God created

         the heavens and the earth.

 

And on the sixth day

He stooped into the dust

and formed man.

 

He molded the clay

         into organs

                  limbs

                           and skin.

 

And then

         He stepped back,

                  took a deep Breath,

and exhaled an extension

         of His Spirit

                  His nature

                           Of Himself

                                    into the dusty shell of man.

 

And that’s how we got

the Words.

 

         “Let there be”

were the words

that brought about creation.

 

         But the Breath of God

         was the poetry

         that brought creation to life.

 

And in the nature of the Creator

We, too, can say

         “Let there be words.”

 

We can scribble them out on paper

         in lines

                  rhymes

                           and rhythms.

 

But it isn’t until we

breathe ourselves

onto the page

         that the words become poetry.

 

In the beginning

God created

         the heavens and the earth.

 

And he did so

Using

         the Power of Words

                  and The Breath of Life.

 

He looked back

and recalled a space that was once empty

the shell that was once dead

         but now full of life

 

And the Great Poet was pleased

with His creation.

 

Like our own Creator,

when we step back

from our creation

We remember the places

that were void

         and formless.

 

We see all that has been done

         the shapes

                  the colors

                           the life walking about.

 

We, too, look back

         and see that it is good.

 

 

“Diagnosis”

by Kitty Saenz

 

The day I saw the loom of life undone,

my mother fell prey to a diagnosis.

She chopped her hair and dared sickness to come —

it came with pain administered in doses.

 

Hope gasped for air, but Mother carried on —

she left no room for pity or for weakness.

But I saw a grown man cry on our front lawn,

and she cradled him, despite the menaced sickness.

 

My brother wept with knees grasped to his chest.

Like a fearful child, he leaned into my mother

who sheltered him with broken wings outstretched;

As sickness loomed, they comforted each other.

 

I watched them from my window and held fast,

for light would never let death’s shadow last.

 

“Afraid”

by Olivia Langston

 

I’m not afraid anymore

Dawned on my soul

Filling the valley of a burdened heart.

 

I guess you can’t be

Stuck in my mind

Appeasing the rational judge.

 

When God gives you the strength to not be,

Stirred my spirit

Waking the dormant warrior.

 

I’m not afraid anymore.

 

“Through the Darkness”

by Kaci Powell

 

Straight through the darkness I walk.

We walk

Hand in hand for always and forever.

I feel You here; I know You’re near.

With Your hand You catch every tear.

I do not have it all figured out,

But You are the one thing I will never doubt.

 

 

“The Dark Night of the Soul”

by Sophie Fouts

 

Wretched, oh wretched soul,

Ash entombs thy wee coal.

Thy gaiety is bygone,

Buried deep in white-gray snow.

 

Alas! Thy burning left!

From the log thou were cleft!

Thrown to the night’s inner cold,

It chaps thy small, fire-lost form.

 

It is here thou goest numb,

Sinking down, crying, thrum

To the rounding, nervous dark,

The quiet wasting silence.

 

Teary food for thee be.

Bitter weeping none see,

Nor thou the far, hazy glow,

Piercing the twilight’s raw chill.

 

The Keeper of the Coals,

He comes and hears thy soul

And collects thy trembling heart,

Holding thee from death’s embrace.

 

He speaks of no disgrace.

Breath of Life makes thee chaste.

Warm burning fills thee again

From the heart of heaven’s flame.

 

“Reflection”

by Autumn Kotsiuba

The moon only seems—

I cannot touch his milk-laden face,

Cannot lift my hand to present dreams

Past the silken ink barrier of space.

 

So I trod the night far from this pale satellite

When cloud nor earth hides the apparition,

Wondering what holy words I could recite

To put to bed, or prove, this superstition.

 

No ladder enough high or word enough pure,

I lower my face to the cobblestone and weep

Until I see, in a puddle like a vapor,

My moon—so close to me.

 

Yes, it seems only in the bright reflection of night

Could I encounter so closely his unfailing light.

 

“Untitled”

by Aneesa Royce

 

Hello darkness my old friend.

I hear the words run over in my head again and again

As I wait for the day for my friend to leave

But I fear he's a permanent resident.

No longer just a remnant from the past but a fixed point of reference in my life again,

Most days I am content to wallow with my friend.

Sit on a couch or lie on my bed,

Lock everyone out for my bff,

You could say quality time is his love language.

Love.

At the mention of love my heart springs to life,

Remembering all the reasons why I should get out of bed and do something with my life,

But

What if I'm never enough?

What if I can't ever be free of this friend that captures my mind and turns it into a battlefield?

Fighting for a breath of fresh air,

The sweet aroma of waking up and knowing I am alive for a reason,

For a purpose,

For a person.

But not just any person could make me feel this way

Because my old friend left me feeling like a broken shell,

No reason, no purpose, no person could ever want that.

It would have to be a person who lifts me above the clouds and shows the future to me…

For one glimpse would make me rise from despair,

One glimpse and the eviction notice for my dear old friend would be signed, sealed and delivered..

It wouldn't take just a person,

But a king, a god, the God.

For surely He has not abandoned me to a life conjoined to the hip of my old pal,

Surely He’s been there all along calling my name,

Because surely "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it."

 

“It Gets Better”

by Kendra Fortes

 

Silence so sharp

No pain escapes its cut

Numbness so heavy

Bones disintegrate

And

Emptiness so vast

The horizon cries out in loneliness.

Despair surrounds me

Closing in on the carcass

Of a being once ebullient

The attack viciously virulent

I close my eyes

And laugh.

I have swam

In the sea of hopelessness

Danced

On the edge of no return

And was born

Of a monster who held me captive

Yet I am alive

And I am free.

What I face now

As disheartening as it is

Is mere child’s play

For you see

He’s shown me the end

And I will win every time.

 

“Light Lives On”

by Esther Green

 

Gunshots in school hallways,

Infant cries in dumpsters,

Razor blades on broken wrists

Because her boyfriend dumped her.

Moral levels dropping,

Children in the brothel.

Little girls molested,

and Daddies in the bottle.

 

Yet students meet in prayer

And Christian homes adopt.

Lives are saved and things are changed

And broken chains are dropped.

Healing comes and slaves are freed

Addictions start to sever.

Because darkness comes at times

But light lives on forever.

 

“Whole”

by Devon Costello

 

I was a child of the bottle,
Drowning in the remnants
Of my father’s addiction and sorrow; Two parts abandonment,
One part loneliness.
A child, unable to understand
Exactly what my father was chasing after. It was as if he was following
A rainbow to its end
Searching for a pot of gold.
Only when the colors faded,
He was alone.
I saw this
As my future.
Spending my days trying to drink away
Every part of myself that I loathed.
Only to be left sliced open by my broken pieces, Leaving my heart
Exposed.
But now,
I am a child of the King. Drowning in the abundance Of my Father’s
Grace and mercy.
I am all parts sin,
Fully cleansed by the blood.
And because of Him,
Who I am is not where I came from.                           

                    

I was a child of the bottle,

Drowning in the remnants

Of my father’s addiction and sorrow; Two parts abandonment,

One part loneliness.

                    

A child, unable to understand

Exactly what my father was chasing after. It was as if he was following

A rainbow to its end

Searching for a pot of gold.

Only when the colors faded,

He was alone.

                    

I saw this

As my future.

Spending my days trying to drink away

Every part of myself that I loathed.

Only to be left sliced open by my broken pieces, Leaving my heart

Exposed.

                    

But now,

I am a child of the King. Drowning in the abundance Of my Father’s

Grace and mercy.

                    

I am all parts sin,

Fully cleansed by the blood.

And because of Him,

Who I am is not where I came from.

 

“Resurrection”

by Amy George

 

I don’t remember

when you grew wings…

when they flared out

from your back

above the stab wounds,

now only scars.

I just remember your eyes,

how they glowed with

Easter morning,

lightning striking

the same place twice,

though years had fallen

in between.

 

There was beauty

and trembling

past the bruises,

cynical voices

shattered by an empty tomb.

 

I remembered the basement,

his hands on your small body.

And I wept to see you

lift up the little girl

you held inside,

her tears now only a memory.

 

Not even the world,

with all its gravity,

could hold you.