Where the Light is

 

I write with the blood in my veins 

because my heart pushes and pulls all that 

my mind can control while my lungs let go of

the breath I need to live out what God created me to do.

Patches of skin tingle in the wind

and my hands aren't as soft as the used to be.

I've roughed up life and have been beaten down.

I've run with tears in my eyes

and sung the loudest of songs

I've drank too much and slept too little

and prayed for absolutely nothing. 

Ive gone off, gone wrong, gone towards the light and back.

I've shaken and swayed passed the tree and right into fall.

I've tripped over you, fell in love with the lips of an Angel,

heard the hymns of temptation and felt the Holy Spirit descend

then retract when he saw what I was doing. 

I've washed my hands in mud more than water,

I've chortled and cackled, been smacked by fear,

and live a little too close to fake. 

But when I'm in the sun's shine,

it all melts right down till I'm naked in warmth

and I cry for myself. For the stupidness I'm made of. 

I love it. I love all the things that make me here in the light. 

Photo by Amanda Grupp.  Words by Jordan Lane Shappell