Poetry and Welcome

I'm writing this poem and it's turning out well but it's giving me some trouble. I think what I'm missing is a main theme. So I thought I'd post it and get some thoughts.

But first here's this picture I thought was hilarious. 

Every sci-fi, fantasy drama I love in one photo. So funny. 

Anyways here is that poem I was talking about. It is so far from finished. I might even break it up into a few separate poems. But here you go! There is no ending yet either so be prepared for that! 

Farm Hands, Some Land

Oh redemption redemption

I'm turning my eyes toward ascension.

I attempt to understand, 

How resurrection

Turned a hot summer to rain

And a dead sinner alive again.

For years I collected in my basket made for grain
Crimson memories.
Woven like the straw.
Deeply colored,
Worn and raw.
White was the cloth placed over my arms.

No more days of gathering 

Sifting fingers through the sand.

Searching for the pearl of greatest treasure,

And a place to bury my wasted pleasure 

Eyes towards the sun

Feet running towards a not so distant land.

Promised to my Fathers 

And forgotten by the sons who stayed their hands.

Whispered words in my caverned chest,

Lead me true.

I'll trade suffering for my cowards hue.

I fear all the things I left behind

And out of sight

The vagabonds inside my skin and sleeves,

Will follow me.

Delilah steals my sleep at night 

Where does your power lie? 

My own ambitions a weak surprise
And a dimness unforseen.

But moonlight gazes overhead.

Freshly woken out of a slumbering world.

And if she can rise in the darkness stead 

I can follow the sunlight 

reflected in her craters bend. 

I'm no mariner

But a gatherer with a quiet bed,

And a few more steps.

Becoming less of stone 

And more like flesh and more like bone.

Never once were my eyes so clearly open,

To the way my own hands 

Make the things they gather what they are.

Connected by the way they fill my arms,

And my soul.

Oh I reap all the things I've sown.

Redemption Redemption

Calling me forever to ascension .

My heart turned towards that sacred hill,

I'm following the steps 

My blistered feet could never fill.

Tell me about the promise. 

I need something true to stand on,

Weakness is the natural state 

Of the heart that's sitting still.

Look into my eyes 

They're bright and full of sky 

But there's a gnawing creeping 

A well I've drawn from often

Sealed inside 

My bucket's sinking faster

Looking for a comfort from a past and parted time. 

......

I love it but I'm so torn by it too. It's about a journey. I kind of draw some metaphor from being a farmer and doing the same thing over and over. Then being touched by grace, being moved by a pureness that causes you to question and follow a new path but at the same time questioning your own place there. There's a longing for two worlds, the one you want to know and the one you're familiar with. 

Thanks for your support people who read my blog. I love you all! 

And welcome back Master's Commision from your month on the road! I can't wait to see all your beautiful faces.

- J