I've asked myself quite frequently
Why does it happen so ...
That from my fingers and my pen,
So many verses flow?
At times my thoughts flood over me
Until they just pour out.
My words then freely overflow ...
What brings such surge about?
I spend time in reflection,
My head truly in a spin;
Then a multitude of notions,
Will make me grab my pen.
I never used to do such things,
I've never been this way.
Why do I get those very words
I feel compelled to say?
I used to pine in loneliness,
But now I seek to be alone.
I want to talk to God my way,
To pen for Him ... my poem.
My verse, I know, is selfish,
It's my way of reaching out;
It's my form of reassurance ...
It's my shield against self-doubt.
I like to think that through my poems
I'm learning how to pray ...
And that my Father's telling me
The words that I should say.
Thus, I dedicate this pen of mine
To Almighty God above ...
To openly declare my need,
For His forgiveness and His love.
May any future words I write,
Be for His exaltation.
May they be truly God-inspired ...
Just for His adoration.