Shadows Of My Heart (poetry from the soul; for the soul)

Into The Unknown

I'd say happy new year but for many that's an oxymoron.
It's a new year indeed but are we new?
Are we happy?
Are we free?
Or are we drowning in our own silent, deadly misery?
Nursing it in our bosoms,
This sad reality;
Addicted to the toxicity,
The toxicity of comfort,
Of certainty,
But what really is certain,
Except for life's uncertainties,
What's certainty,
When the fickle nature of man remains to many;
A mere mystery?

So why then do they say a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush?
As though what we have in our hands we must never let go of,
As though it is...certain.
But what a fallacy,
Like a caged bird we never truly see,
See the truth,
But the truth sets us free.
Why then do we hold on to the lies?
How much longer will we hold up the façade,
Keep the disguise?
How much longer do we gauge we will remain in this cage.
One of which we constantly hide the key.
The misery seems good because it's all we have allowed ourselves to know,
But the clock is ticking,
And like the day dying in the west,
Our dreams and aspirations go under instead of yonder,
As vultures circle awaiting the inevitable,
Ready to eat at our dead works that we label as faith.
Faith?
I thought faith was the substance of things hoped for the evidence of things not seen,
But spiritual things are spiritually discerned,
And caged birds can't seek out olive branches,
Even as the sea of negativity rises.
And blind doves don't know their way back home,
If they were to ever even leave said cage.

A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush they say,
But I only want one.
And it's not the one in my hand
No!
For its wings have long been clipped,
I thought I could have healed it,
I thought I could have let it fly,
And let it go.
For love does not pigeon hold,
It's bold,
It's bright,
It's colourful,
Like a rainbow.
Like a rainbow shining amidst a storm.
But no!
We only see in black and white.

They say a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush right?
But the sparrow in my hand refuses to fly,
Yet it chases tomorrow;
An endless game,
A tired soul,
That knows not that tomorrow is promised to no one,
Because it never comes.
I gave this bird my presence as a present,
While my present was stifled by an uncertain future.
But if God watches over the sparrows then why should I?
Why should you being able to fly stay on the ground?
Who was your teacher?
Is He not God the Creator?
Your heavenly father?
He promises to those who wait upon him; wings as eagles.
They shall walk and not grow weary,
They shall run and not faint.
This world will they paint,
With the colours of love.
Under His wings will they abide,
Under the shadow of the almighty they will reside.
God calls us today,
Now,
To accept the gift that is our present,
Our here and now,
To accept him today,
To shout it out from our hearts and say,
I am a child of God,
And these are His people,
We will not remain caged in our skewed views of reality,
Stifled by narrow minded ideologies,
But together soar beyond the storms of this world,
Until we see the sun,
Yes, the Son of God;
Jesus Christ,
This our grand price;
Eternal life.