SOON Online Magazine

Poems

Games People Play
Pain that cuts without incision,
Tears that fall from depths within;
Blows that make a strong heart stagger ~
Brought about by just a whim.

Silent actions, with their dagger,
Aimed at qualities I love;
These developed from a lifetime
To take safely home, above.

I must put aside my teardrops,
Wash the crimson blood away,
And prepare for, yet, another
Fresh assault, again, today.

Are these, only from the tempter,
Fiery darts to brush aside ~
When they feel like they'll be numbered
With the giants of my life?

I'm not nursing my inflictions
To expand to life time threats.
I am buffing up the edges,
Not to fill life with regrets.

For the torturous pain I suffer
Is no different than He felt
When the garden, sweetest chapel,
Must consume the blood that fell.

Love is measured by surrender,
Splendid covering for our flaws;
Good outdoing all the evil
Planned, ignoring God's pure law.

He will aid with my recovery ~
Teaching me (in every way)
Wisdom, as I seek the precious
Plan to follow every day.

Then, at last, when I surrender,
Open my eyes forevermore,
I will reap rewards for seeking
His way on this foreign shore.

I trust Jesus as I travel
Through this barren, thirsty land.
I'll be grateful, even in Heaven,
I could always feel His hand.

© 2003 by Joan Clifton Costner


Other poems
by Joan Clifton Costner

A large collection of poems, submitted by Joan Clifton Costner
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