The Paradox

In brief, I wrote a poem some late night a while back, and here it is. I found it again just now in the jumbled files on my computer. It has a meaning, or I mean to say, a history. Much discussion and contemplation has revealed one of the great puzzles of human life. One can pour everything into a person, an activity, a dream, a desire, but if God does not take foremost place in life, then the passion is misdirected and draining on the soul. This can be a danger for anyone, and as a creative person I realize that the power of an imagination can be twisted around for a demeaning purpose, rather than an uplifting or an inspiring one. While I must say this discourages me, and disappoints me (I would like to have it that the things I love dearly could not have a bad side to them, but they do), this understanding ought to be used to advance the resilience and strength of character. It is a challenge, yes. But it is a worthy one at that.

Aand, here is the poem:

Here in the quiet hush of night

I listen, wondering if you shall speak

I would that my thoughts take flight

And drowsiness drop from its peak

And then it be us alone, your spirit in mine

Mine dwelling in yours alone

Till my soul ‘comes a thing You refine

Not repulsed by Satan’s undertone,

His device, called Doubt or Distraction.

A struggle ever onward, life’s mark

You gave me a mind, it clouds with abstraction

And even vivid reveries are stark;

Barren without you, appearing in them.

I shut you out with my door I think

But you step around it, into my life so dim

Anguished, annoyed, away I shrink

To repulse you, afraid of facing doubt.

My own doubt, or yours? I can’t be sure

But it must be fear, existing without

You brings it on, giving room for worldly lure

Finally I turn and say hello, you sit

Beside me and we rest, sudden light breaking

How well it feels, how finely you befit

My Reality, my Truth, and I find myself forsaking

Everything else. For you. Nothing belongs

For you narrow the road and pluck

From my hands what should have long

Vanished, out of soul, out of mind. You tuck

Away fears, angers, tatters of an empty life

Empty without you.

Published by Rebecca Elise

I'm 24. ENFP. Writer. Artist. Student {UD '19} I write and draw what is I'm passionate about (i.e. Theology, history, literature...and my favorite films/shows, like Star Wars!

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