I remember Your voice
was what I heard saying
“Follow me.”
But that wasn’t enough
so I blew off the dust
from pages once lost, now found
and I compared the text to the sound
but when it didn’t line up
I chose what I could hold.
You wanted me still.
You called to me
“Just follow me.”
But internal conflict arose
from perception awoke
to altered meanings of heavenly prose
---don’t trust it
---it’s your voice not anything divine
Then I remembered
I was broken, lost, and crying
on my knees
dying
the first time I heard the voice whisper that wasn’t mine
“Stop crying, sweet child. Stand tall and follow me.”
It spoke until the darkness ebbed
it gave me peace
it let me rest
That voice called out
My name
It knew me
and laid a path for me
lessons laden with love and synchronous grace
so no one could ever mistake
that this is a place of faith that grows inside of me
A temple
where worship is just as it was meant to be
a profound intimacy
for God in me.
LMT01312018
