spirituality - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
I broke down and dropped to my knees,
The last breath had been pulled from my lungs.
Father, he reached for the cheeks and spoke,
“Find your faith, speak with no man’s tongues.”
Black traces of sin began to pour from my mouth,
And the devil stood to applaud.
Father stepped back in fear,
“Look within yourself to find God.”
But there is no God here,
Only a lost, broken soul.
A place where demons raise their young,
A place where shatters of glass are added to the coal.
But yet you tell me to look deep down here,
The place that harbors the secrets that never left my lips,
The place where my greatest of judgement trips.
The place that provides the solution my mind sips.
Don’t tell me to find my faith within,
Because the hell inside doesn’t allow a god.
What good is it to listen to myself,
When all the voices inside are leading me to the spinning rod.
So Father, forgive me when I say,
That you have done no good.
I think when I told you I was dying,
You simply misunderstood.
There is no light hiding in the darkness of these shadows,
The pieces inside don’t all fit.
You can’t just raise your hands and say a prayer,
Because upon entering the Holy Spirit got the faith scared out of it.
I called to you in need of a miracle,
And you looked at me with pity.
You turned from my cry,
As if I hadn’t tried everything already.
Father, look with your eyes at the worst of failures,
See what happens when you let the suppressed come out to play.
Do you not understand what happens when you’re four months overdue,
And the devil tells you it’s time to pay.
But look no more,
You have absolutely no reason to cry.
Father, I have only one request;
When the next scream calls your name,
Promise to atleast try.
In this old growth forest the trees rise upward forever, the canopy above is distant, like clouds of green. Even with arms out-stretched I would never even be able to reach even a fraction of the way around their gnarly bark trunks. Stepping carefully over the roots that knot the pathway, watching the freshly fallen rain seep into the soil, I am struck by a wish to melt in with it. Not to die, but to live forever amongst these ancient beings who cast the shadow in which I stand. There is a sacredness here that transcends everyday concerns, casting them into the timelessness of forests, of oceans, of mountains. Under these boughs I feel the breath of God and hear the beauty of His creations; how can I not be at home here?