Walking alone in the dark.
Running from the fear of this feeling.
Unsure if my eyes are closed.
Afraid that I can’t find the light.
Yearning to be more than I am.
Fearing that I’m deaf to His voice.
Praying that I’m on the path.
Afraid that there isn’t one.
Trying not to look at you.
Seeing your face every time I sleep.
Trying too hard to fix myself.
Surrendering it all to Him.
Walking alone in the dark.
Basking in the light from above.
Filed under Poetry
It’s a moment of weakness to indulge these feelings, but there are times when you look around and wonder why? When the monotony of talking to no one but yourself about your day gets so old, you want to scream. When the longing grows so intense that you want to burst.
Did I take a wrong turn along the way?
That has to be it.
How else can I explain feeling this lost?
I must have missed some one or some thing.
How else can I feel so alone among friends?
Monotony overwhelms me.
Just getting by seems so pointless.
You strive to create,
To be needed,
To be wanted,
To do more than get by.
But what’s the point of achieving dreams,
When no one cares that you did?
You long for a touch or a smile or a thought.
An indication that someone somewhere might
Be thinking of you above all others.
You give and give but rarely get back.
You feel used up.
Drained inside.
Sometimes you call out above.
Knowing He felt this too.
But the silence is deafening.
There must be a reason, but you’re too blind to see.
It’s not magic you long for.
It’s just a touch.
A sincere embrace that exists for you alone.
A dramatic wish within a moment of weakness.
I normally despise writing in rhyme, but I tried to write a sonnet. Wanna hear it? here it go…
I cannot sleep for you will haunt my dreams
And whisper words of aching in the night.
The pure light of your eyes and how they gleam
Will shatter the black until morning’s light.
Time has not pow’r to pierce this throe inside,
I know my soul will always long for yours.
And though the flame you feel not scars my pride,
I’ll fight for you ‘til the last of love’s wars.
Like a blinded fool I’ll charge on heart first,
And brace for the pain that I know must be.
It’s then I’ll fall from this love’s hurtful thirst,
And welcome the night that will embrace me.
So sleep I’ll find when at this journey’s end,
And this ache inside will finally mend.
©Jeffrey Alan McMorrough
Filed under Poetry
What makes you feel special?
A look?
A touch?
Attention given?
What happens when those things are absent?
When the path is rough and you walk it alone?
Let me find my worth in You.
All others disappoint.
Filed under Uncategorized
The next number is a big one. Well, maybe not in the grand scheme of things, but even 10 years ago, 36 seemed like an eternity away. It’s tough to not look back and sort of…judge… your life, your progress, your contribution. The tough part is, we’re probably in the worst position to make an accurate assessment of those things. However, we do it. I do it. More than I admit.
As kids, we all saw ourselves as stars in a grand adventure. The sword wielding hero, the laser shooting space pilot, someone important…in a grand story. We all thought it would somehow play out that way. At least I did. Silly?
As Christians, we’re told that we are important. That we are in a grand story. The trouble is, it often doesn’t feel that way. It often doesn’t look that way. We keep looking around the bend for the next chapter to unfold its grand tale. What do we do when it doesn’t?
I ask myself questions. Where are you getting your worth? Um, from God, of course.
Really? Really, Jeff? Well…ok, maybe I’m looking in other places…the faces of people I meet…the praise of your peers… time and words from friends…other places. Places that can sometimes run dry for months, even years at a time.
Who are you? Who do you want to be?
Am I an actor? Well, it’s been awhile since I’ve actually done any acting. Photographer? Mmmm, requests for my services are few and far between. Graphic Designer? I do it but…
Wait, Christian. Yeah, there it is. I’m always that. No matter how I feel or what I do.
Is that who you really want to be? Really?
Yes.
If I could mark a box “Warrior for Christ,” that’s the box I’d mark. That’s who I want to be.
More than the others.
I want to make a mark.
Not just any mark. A mark with meaning.
Filed under Random Blogs
There are these days when you look around and wonder.
You think back and look for the turn you missed.
You look forward but can’t really see what’s next.
You want to go.
But you can’t.
You wonder silly things.
“Does anyone think of me?”
Lies abound.
Filed under Photography, Random Blogs
Certain songs.
A specific image.
A glass of wine.
And my mind can only think of you.
A picture of you with me wherever I am.
I don’t think you know that I knew too late.
I don’t think you knew that those words
were all about you.
Maybe it’s only hindsight.
Rose colored glasses covering the
Ordinary with a sheen of wonderful.
Maybe it’s only the wine,
Or the song,
Or the picture in my mind.
But the hollow pain feels real.
A place down deep reserved for
Butterflys caused by the sight of you.
Or maybe I’m just a fool.
One who will never know until it does No good to know.
Filed under Poetry
