Category Archives: Inspiration

Be inspired

Inspiration is a subtle gift wrapped in urgency. One has to take it when offered or risk losing that glimpse into heaven by dallying with the cares of this earth.

When you see it you will know.

Dear reader, be encouraged. Recognition is bound in the identity of that which you look for. Eyes have not seen nor ears heard what God has prepared for those who love him. Dont worry. Time will pass trailing in its wake your expectations on a platter of mirth. Below is a poem, please let me know how it resonates with you.

P.S: Credit goes to @deeyssertFlower and Marvel Comics for the first line and part of the seventh lines respectively. Thanks for inspiring me.

Be encouraged

The light that dimmed did not die,

It lay at night awoken.

Fed off the memory of that to come

And every word unspoken.

The night that came did not last,

Earth turned in restless sleep.

Then now and days of future past

gave the light forever to keep

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Psalm 152

Thank You.
For the rain, for again.
I wonder about here and now and how
And sometimes why.
Thank You for not answering just yet
Teaching me that patience can often
Be the reply to many a prayer whispered
In hope that You do hear.
Thank you for the many shades of men.
This one colour is made all the more vivid
By their brilliant reflection of Your
Goodness and grace.
Thank you for desire and want
For in them we learn to come to Your table
And eat of Your bounty and drink
from Your cup that never runs dry.
Thank You for turning a blind eye
While shielding me with Your strong arm,
And for binding tears and burns inflicted
By me and mine.
Thank You for endings and half-ways
Because though some see a thing gone
You put in my heart a traveler’s song
That says “the road is a journey’s home”
Thank You.

P.S: without You, I am empty space in a hidden place.


Signposts and Markers

It’s right in front of you. Read.
There was much promise in the early years; bags packed , destination in mind, goodbyes said. And then the journey proper.
Blessing remarked in her sms to me yesterday that she almost couldn’t believe that we were both talking about work. I replied, saying that today is the yesterday of tomorrow. Something must move. It is either us, moving forward, or time moving backwards until it appears, small and worthless, in the distance. In any case, we would find that transition occurs. It is my hope that life’s flashpoints don’t catch you standing open mouthed in surprise ,asking “How did i/we get here?
Look. See.
We stop to ask for direction all the time, from God, our peers, strangers on the street; all in a bid to “get there”. When is this ignorance, and when is it arrogance? Granted, losing one’s way is a hallmark of travelling on the earth, but if one is careful to read the weather beaten pointers that have been painstakingly hammered into the ground right under our noses by people that have gone before us, we may find the journey less uncertain and shorter, leaving us with time to smell the roses and bury road-kill that we so often ignore. There is no temptation in travel that has not been experienced by others before you. Only perception is novel, the vista is largely the same.
Today I took out time to study about finance and business, and it occurred to me that one of the reasons why my father recorded only moderate success in his corporate labors is that he did not take out time to read the signposts on his business trip. You can read newspapers, talk to people, send and receive messages via the innumerable channels we have today and still be lost if you don’t take note of where the signpost says you are per time.
Signpost Says.
Take your nose out of the dirt, take off the arrogance that despair places round your neck, look up, look around, and read the signs. Soon, you will be on your way.

 


The viewer, the view.

You walk across my window sill
and into curtains draped across the hill.
Nine times you’ve passed this way before,
I know because I’ve stood here more
listening to the shuffle-step of your feet
make even and odd prints on the street.

I sometimes whisper to my window pane:
“Ask her if she has a name”
It murmurs back in a voice that’s the same:
“I will -if you will- when she comes again”

You stand framed in my right eye’s nook
And also in my left when i dare to look.
Gran tells me “dust settles on a life that’s still
So run an errand to the cassava mill.
Bring me tasty tales of goings on,
Don’t mix up who has died or borne a son”

I often wonder what she would make of you;
The ‘goings on’ that dare not follow through.
Don’t know how many more times I’ll be by;
Gran fades. The news stream may dry

young man standing at window


A Prosperity Testament: 23rd Psalm (revised)

In these days of talk of recession, debt, surge in commodity prices, there is someone that can ensure that our wealth isn’t eaten by moths. I Stumbled upon this revised version of our favorite psalm and revised it a bit more. Read and prosper.

 

The Lord is my banker; my credit is good.

He maketh me to lie down in the consciousness of omnipresent abundance;

He giveth me the key to his strongbox.

He restoreth my faith in His riches;

He guideth me in the path of prosperity for His name’s sake

Yea, though I walk through rumors of National debt,

I shall fear no evil, for Thou art with me;

Thy ideas of life, they secure me.

Thou preparest a way for me in the presence of the collector;

Thou fillest my wallet with plenty; my measure runneth over.

Surely, goodness and plenty will follow me all the days of my life,

And I shall do business in the name of the Lord forever.


A GRAIN AND AGAIN

I play in words

Like a child in sand

Sifting grains of thoughtful

Delight from one hand.

A grain and again

Stretching past what i see,

And so deep, I maintain

Each grain will outlive me.

I may ripen through

The three seasons of day

And fall off being a child at play

As tides shift sifted sand

Across this thought-tamed land.

Still, if a grain or two

Does cling to you,

Forgive a child: you can play too.


Waiting to Exhale.

We all find ourselves waiting: for the rain, a bus, for a spouse to come home.

All my life i have been waiting – this hasn’t stopped me from living. A lot of us think waiting is an  activity that is mutually exclusive from every other thing (used to think this way meself). This thinking has led to the feet-tapping, floor-pacing, fingernail-biting variety of Homo sapiens who are unable to appreciate the journey for the destination.

There is an anecdote of a man at a party who waited in line for his turn at the buffet. It was a long line. While there, waiters would come with trays of  côtelettes de petits and drinks for the people in line. With his eyes firmly fixed on the head of the line he declined all offers, imagining how good the food will taste to his hungry palettes.  At long last, his turn came. He got his meal. It didn’t taste as good as he imagined. Why? There was bile in his mouth.

God has taught me to wait. A while ago, I watched life zoom past with sickening speed, blowing signposts i had placed at strategic points to the ground. I had two options: wait or live. i chose to live. waiting happened by all itself.

We put our lives on hold for “something”. Absurd, don’t u think? I can almost hear God saying… “what does it profit to gain the world and loose your soul?” We’ve tended to connote waiting negatively by calling it: “killing-time” or “treading water”.

For those of us waiting to exhale: How long can you “wait” before you asphyxiate?