I hear him, around the corner.
On the school bus, in my room, everywhere I go
he never goes away, and I don’t like what he says,
No matter how fast I run, he keeps screaming
Louder and louder.
he has this annoying shadowlike penchant
he is so convincing. So blunt. So un-innocently un-confused.
What can I do? I don’t (want to) believe him… I don’t like him.
Should I get rid of him? I can’t. The Other voice… I hear it only vaguely,
Because it sounds so vague. Opaque. A whitely gray color of Knowledge.
The smoky elusiveness of the Other is yet smooth, softly
Logical. The same Other says, “I know…I see… trust Me”
With His highlighter he illuminates sparrows, and sheep.
Which is exactly what I feel like, without the color. The Other can’t lie, He sleeps
In sovereignty and He moves in perfect tandem with Himself.
Interwoven in all His sweet songs are the tiny chirps of reflection.
He reflects perfection to imperfection, He imparts promise
And sometimes it’s hard to hear. Because the louder one doesn’t like me, or Him,
And so every moment is war. And I’m glad screams are empty.
Because without Him, I would be lost, listening to my own self
ish desires to be selfishly confused by him. Instead that still peace, that soft
Voice, is what my ears, and soul, know only slightly. I should really