I hold on so tight to my dreams, to my fears-
I hold on to life and to time.
I grasp at the fire and gasp when it sears.
I hold to this tragic thing- life.
It was never my own, but I wanted to own;
I hold to this thing that’s called “safe”.
I wanted to know my security sealed.
I hold to this tragic thing- life.
He holds seven stars in his gentle, scarred hands.
He held to the cross with His love.
He sacrificed safety to offer me hope,
Instead of this tragic thing- life.
He holds seven stars in His gentle, scarred hands-
I look up and see them above.
He stretches them out and then offers me one,
Instead of this tragic thing- life.
He tells me to let go of dreams and of fears,
To let go of life and of time.
He holds seven stars in His gentle, scarred hands,
He tells me that one of them’s mine…
“These things says He who holds the seven stars… he who overcomes… to him I will give power… and I will give him the morning star.”
Karen
16 Oct 2019Beautiful! Glad someone told me about your post. I’ll be back. I also write a blog. Oflivinginthenow.wordpress.com
Alison
16 Oct 2019Thank you, Karen!
Kezia Hostetler
13 Nov 2019Wow, you wrote this?? This is A BEAUTIFUL piece of poetry! Love love love.