Icicles

Icicles. Lots of them. Breaking off the ceiling and slicing through the snow. They make clean cut divots. I feel like laying on the snow underneath the diving icicles. Just to feel them pierce me and divide me into separate pieces. Compartmentalizing peace, sorrow, and heart break. Just so I can physically feel it, see what's being done inside of me. I just want relief.

Awoken by the Son

Awoken by the Son, reverence and serenity take me by the hand. Peace leads me, drifting through clouds that cause rain and death. But woe to me if I shall question the peace that guides me, although I may feel the rain on my face, I am lead all the while. Being pulled through the tangles of dis-harmonious screams and desperate fervor, I tremble. Sing to me again, oh peace that awakened me with the Son. Pull me under your waves that plunder my heart with wonderment and awe. Though I may feel evil, and the murky clouds beneath my feet, keep my soul awake; lest I trip on burning coals and fall into the depths of the dead, who are silenced by the Holy Beast.

Let My Love Be Like

Open up the floodgates, let me feel this outpour you speak of.  This overflow that connects the chasm between Your heart and mine. Let Psalm 27:4 ring from my heart and be seen in my actions. I cannot lose you, I cannot stray. Let me be plunged into the depths of Your well.
Let my love for you not be rain on a window, surely to evaporate by daylight. But let it be a river that runs constant, freely. Because if I am not running, as a stream does through all seasons, I am a still pond which freezes in the cold seasonst; only to be broken by the trampling of feet, throwing of stones, and punctures of branches; and only to resume as it was before.