Brooke Brown, Author of Faith & Fiction
"The Lord allows my words to dance in ways my feet cannot. If I create rhythms that bring others hope, it is only then that I honor His gracious gift."
Poetry of My Heart
The Prayer, The Dream
Fire.
Ice.
Clay to stone.
Stone melted back to clay.
This is the prayer.
This is the dream.
This is me.
I am real.
Dive into my reality.
Tears.
Fears.
Torture.
Rain.
Lightening bolt.
Blanket of light.
I am gone.
Perfect.
Secret.
Mine.
All I count on.
The prayer, only thing known.
The dream, only thing kept.
Dancing in rose-scented wind.
Silence in music.
Music smeared into silence.
With each gold-dusted breath, the prayer.
In each shimmery-silver glance, the dream.
Strength is He, constant, always.
Him.
Consuming flames within me.
Petals swirling.
Petals conceal my soul.
Blood-made velvet roses.
My blood drained and poured into velvet roses.
Blood-made velvet roses in the sky.
Blood-made velvet roses in His hands.
This is the prayer.
This is the dream.
Amen.
Fire.
Ice.
Clay to stone.
Stone melted back to clay.
This is the prayer.
This is the dream.
This is me.
I am real.
Dive into my reality.
Tears.
Fears.
Torture.
Rain.
Lightening bolt.
Blanket of light.
I am gone.
Perfect.
Secret.
Mine.
All I count on.
The prayer, only thing known.
The dream, only thing kept.
Dancing in rose-scented wind.
Silence in music.
Music smeared into silence.
With each gold-dusted breath, the prayer.
In each shimmery-silver glance, the dream.
Strength is He, constant, always.
Him.
Consuming flames within me.
Petals swirling.
Petals conceal my soul.
Blood-made velvet roses.
My blood drained and poured into velvet roses.
Blood-made velvet roses in the sky.
Blood-made velvet roses in His hands.
This is the prayer.
This is the dream.
Amen.
The Picture Window
In a quiet room in a unnoticed little house,
There sits a fairly easy chair in front of a large picture window.
This is where I’ve been these many months - sitting in that easy chair,
In that quiet room, down the hall in this certain little unnoticed house.
And as I gaze out the spotless picture window,
It puts on a translucent play of scenery from my future.
There are many roses of humble glory and acres of strong trees,
Planted with blessings and wise decisions to sustain them.
But these landscapes are a sheer curtain meant to conceal my homeland.
The divine country to which I will turn once I fulfill my purpose in my current station
That continues to be this foreign land.
The hours press on,
Each one giving me a deeper desire to climb out that picture window.
To fully bask in the light of love which only grazes my face at the moment.
Yet the lock on the window is quite slow to turn because it has many locks.
Still, each nudge brings a new hope
That someday soon, I’ll be able to look in on my fairly easy chair in that quiet room
That quiet room at the end of the hall,
Inside this little unnoticed house
From the other side of that large picture window.
In a quiet room in a unnoticed little house,
There sits a fairly easy chair in front of a large picture window.
This is where I’ve been these many months - sitting in that easy chair,
In that quiet room, down the hall in this certain little unnoticed house.
And as I gaze out the spotless picture window,
It puts on a translucent play of scenery from my future.
There are many roses of humble glory and acres of strong trees,
Planted with blessings and wise decisions to sustain them.
But these landscapes are a sheer curtain meant to conceal my homeland.
The divine country to which I will turn once I fulfill my purpose in my current station
That continues to be this foreign land.
The hours press on,
Each one giving me a deeper desire to climb out that picture window.
To fully bask in the light of love which only grazes my face at the moment.
Yet the lock on the window is quite slow to turn because it has many locks.
Still, each nudge brings a new hope
That someday soon, I’ll be able to look in on my fairly easy chair in that quiet room
That quiet room at the end of the hall,
Inside this little unnoticed house
From the other side of that large picture window.
Undercover
This body of mine,
Rigid and stubborn,
Is not what it appears to be.
Peculiar as that might seem, this body of mine is a clever disguise, you see.
It has many secrets to keep,
For the treasure inside is quite enchanted,
Some may even call it divine.
My true form, Heaven made the wise decision to hide.
A very strange place for a dancer’s spirit to reside,
With muscles that must struggle to both straighten and bend.
It’s always a hard disjoint to mend.
Still, listen to my words with willing ears,
And there’s a sweet song that you’ll hear.
The music in my heart, it’s God’s creation,
Beating with continually changing rhythms and melodies.
Allowing my mind to spin an unruly clutter of words into dances,
That would prove physically impossible for my curved spine and uneven hips.
Neither beautiful fluidity, nor perfect precision will ever take up direction,
Over all my muscles, joints and bones,
And their involuntary motion.
But there are a few, who know it’s only a tender precaution,
Taken in order to protect the treasure inside.
One willing angel on a mission.
This body of mine,
It’s just a clever disguise.
This body of mine,
Rigid and stubborn,
Is not what it appears to be.
Peculiar as that might seem, this body of mine is a clever disguise, you see.
It has many secrets to keep,
For the treasure inside is quite enchanted,
Some may even call it divine.
My true form, Heaven made the wise decision to hide.
A very strange place for a dancer’s spirit to reside,
With muscles that must struggle to both straighten and bend.
It’s always a hard disjoint to mend.
Still, listen to my words with willing ears,
And there’s a sweet song that you’ll hear.
The music in my heart, it’s God’s creation,
Beating with continually changing rhythms and melodies.
Allowing my mind to spin an unruly clutter of words into dances,
That would prove physically impossible for my curved spine and uneven hips.
Neither beautiful fluidity, nor perfect precision will ever take up direction,
Over all my muscles, joints and bones,
And their involuntary motion.
But there are a few, who know it’s only a tender precaution,
Taken in order to protect the treasure inside.
One willing angel on a mission.
This body of mine,
It’s just a clever disguise.
