Poems from a Busy Brain

 

 

POEMS FROM A BUSY BRAIN

Alison Lawrence

ADD BRAIN

My thoughts are white

rapids tumbling,

through a brain that's a

roiling sea.

I spy the peaceful

banks and spaces,

but the river is

carrying me.

I see a little pool of hope,

where gentle waters flow

and birds and flowers soothe ...

where colorful swathes delight

and call to enter in.

With God's help I will get to that place, 

of peaceful steps and thoughts

where my brain will find true rest

in a calm and trusting way.

JOY

Choosing joy when

I want to grumble,

choosing joy so I do not stumble,

a joy that bubbles right on through

the dreary gloom that threatens you.

Choosing joy in rain and snow,

choosing joy when cheer is low.

It's not about a fake, bright smile

and trying to bear it for a while,

this joy is everlasting, true,

and yours when Jesus lives in you.

IDOLS

There are so many idols,

so many things 

that pull for our attention,

so many idols, 

so many things,

will Jesus get a mention?

TAKE-OVER BID

I 

have

too

many

thoughts

They rush around, and through and over,

carrying on their insistent conversations

in my head, galloping around, trying to

dominate the small and precious space

that

is 

my

quiet

time.

THE BIBLE

Do you have a Bible?

Oh yes, 

it's here somewhere,

I think -

under this pile

of papers,

till-slips,

magazines,

games

and romances.

Oh look:

there's that letter

I was looking for!

I'm going to put the kettle on

and read it.

My Bible?

Oh, I'm going to be

decluttering soon.

Maybe I'll find it.

HOSPITAL

Sitting counting bricks

I am surprised by her smile

in the waiting room.

RACING

My brain races on

and I am carried along

'til I see Jesus.

DIVERSE

Autism says no

to noisy busy rushing

the world of ADD

GARDEN SCENE

Sunbirds and weavers

flitting, chirping, building nests

my cat dreams murder.

SILENCE

Do you know that

silence?

Not a tranquil pause:

the silence when

no one asks you

how you are.

PEN VS PENCIL

Your world is penned 

in black and white.

Feelings threaten

the clear lines you have drawn.

In mine, there are feelings

and thoughts

shaded

from H through B.

SUNDAY

I wake ready for action

ready for busy.

I sigh in relief:

it's Sunday 

and I can rest in Him.

JOURNEYING

Bushes blanket

and grasses wave,

traveling on,

traveling on,

past a patchwork quilt

of sage and gold

traveling on,

traveling on

while low scruffy hills

roll and ride along,

traveling on,

traveling on,

cumulus clouds

in turquoise sky

traveling high,

traveling high.

OH!

Oh Lord, thank You

for the house You've made for me;

I've never seen it,

but I know it is delightful.

And thank You for Heaven 

its beauty eternal

is waiting for me,

beyond all ability to tell.

And yet more amazing still,

that I will see Your face,

and spend

each day

with You.

IN MY POMEGRANATE TREE

White-rimmed eyes in

leaf green and yellow blending

flits round ruby globes.

PAIN

In painful suffering silence

I give my hurts all to You.

Not knowing if they'll ever change,

yet I know Your heart aches too.

SIMPLE

I am a simple soul,

writing simple things

of God and His great love.

Similes and metaphors are fine,

and so are lines which rhyme,

but not when they hide the simple truth.

So I'll keep writing simple things

of God and His great love,

a simple soul with no need to impress,

only His grace to confess.

SPRING CLEAN

Decluttering, cleaning,

wiping and washing,

then polish and shine.

Busy, busy, busy

in the home.

But I need attention too:

to be washed by His blood,

made clean and new,

decluttered and polished,

ready to serve,

ready to love only You.

LITTLE BIRD

Perching on her bough,

in drizzle or sun,

the little bird is cheerily content:

but watching from the window,

steeped in anxious, worried thought

is the one who is called Christian,

yet heeds not what He taught.

GIVEN OVER

My worries and cares have grown wings,

I have given them all to the King.

He knows my lowly condition

and he bids me to live without fear.

He holds my hand and loves me

while I take all to Him in prayer.

HIS NAME

To whisper His Name

is to paint a love Divine

and to speak "Jesus" 

begins a symphony

of love and power.

The End

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