You of the wise words and silver tongue,
You alone might sing my praises
but You alone drive my fears before me
while You hold me up, naked,
before the masses.
You strip me bare that all may see
what I am —
exposed —
and I, I return again and again
to kiss Your feet
in supplication
to watch You from my silent
place below
hoping to catch Your eye
in a soft moment
hoping that the smile
playing across Your lips
could one day be meant for me
could one day be fueled by me
though you would never admit it
but I would know.
It seems at times that my greatest wish,
that I may bask in Your approving glow,
might have been granted
and those brief, small favours
dripping from your fingers
like the rain from the stars
taste more sweet than honey
because they are more rare than peace.
I lose myself each time I bow before Thee.
Beautiful, especially these lines – “like the rain from the stars
taste more sweet than honey
because they are more rare than peace.
I lose myself each time I bow before Thee.”
Thank you! I’m so glad you like those lines; I played with them for while.
That last line says so much — that loss of self to make another happy can be so depleting (or fulfilling, depending on who it is!). A mentor can wield a lot of unearned power. I’ve been here (oh, the desperation):
“hoping to catch Your eye
in a soft moment
hoping that the smile
playing across Your lips
could one day be meant for me
could one day be fueled by me
though you would never admit it
but I would know.”
Well done, my friend.
Thank you, Meg. In some ways it’s a bit like any other potentially dysfunctional relationship, including at times the relationship with oneself or one’s inspiration/muse. It can spur us to great things but can also drain us.
I have to be a copy-cat and say that this bit is so very, very good:
those brief, small favours
dripping from your fingers
like the rain from the stars
taste more sweet than honey
because they are more rare than peace.
You’ve taken a thing that’s sort of awful and given it a melancholy beauty that’s like a painting made of words.
Ooh, Shannon, how lovely. Thank you 🙂
Mentors don’t know the power they hold over us. That’s the sign of a good mentor, I suppose. My favorite line is “could one day be fueled by me”. It seems taboo to admit that desire.
Quite true. There is something powerful in speaking the things that are taboo. Thanks, Nate 🙂
Very well written. It expresses the yearning of the inner soul to be approved very well and the words just draw mental images that create a sense of craving.
Thank you – It’s very rewarding to hear what you sensed in the piece.
“hoping that the smile
playing across Your lips
could one day be meant for me”
We’ve all been there, I expect. Leave it to you to turn an ordinary, somewhat painful experience into poetry!
Wow, the yearning comes through so clearly.
I also love the rain from the stars – so pretty.
Thank you, it’s wonderful to hear that. I’m glad you liked that line, too.
This made me very uncomfortable. And I don’t mean that as a criticism. The way you conveyed the total submission was disturbingly well done.
Thank you – I’ll take that as a compliment. There is a point when the reverence and love can become self destructive and being blunt about it can cause discomfort. I’m glad I conveyed that.
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