PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

She runs like the wind _ the arms of its strong gust cradle and carry her
She takes swift flight from the engulfing, suffocating night
A Holy lamp guiding her short sight blight
through valleys and alleys that creek the wane of shadowy ill
Through raging rivers that threaten to sweep away with tangling weeds that still
She runs
She runs to Him
In desperation
She runs till she finds him
She runs till she is found in Him
She runs till she is hidden from the serpentine sting
She runs

She unfolds and spreads once cramped wings _wide
as the breeze teases through its feathers
soaring son kissed heights that even crows feat eyes have never seen
Her capacity swells and stretches past boundaries of a lost dream
till labors sweet pains sing
Till victory and joy ring
a high pitch alarm pierces a war cry through the atmosphere of ‘has been’
shattering shame, and fear
Breaking old rusty chains and cutting bands that pare
Reviving the dormant, resurrecting the dying
Singing joy to the depressed and crying
The new morning rises, breaking the fast with a bowl of sweet mercy
It’s a good morning!
Good Morning!
She runs
She runs to Him
With joy
She runs till she finds Him
She runs till she is found in Him
She runs till she is in the shadow of His will
She runs

Undergirded by a strength out side earthly zone
Gloriously encamped by a host from the heavenly plane
A canopy of love she is not alone.
The shadowing of ‘The Dove’ is now her domain
She will never be the same
Never be bound by the same old insane, mind-boggling, mind blinding-game
For now she sees
She sees the Son of truth
He set her free
She runs
She runs to him
With great joyful abandon she runs
She runs till for she finds Him
She runs till she is found in Him
She runs till she is in the shadow of His throne
She runs home
She runs to Him

© Gail Clarke 2011