Category Archives: poetry

Not My Own

Not My Own – 

Here am I, send me
An empty vessel,
Surrendered knee

To use for your purpose & your plan
No selfish desires, no scheme of man

Everything I have belongs to you,
I desire nothing but your will to do

All that I am and all I want to be
You accomplished upon that tree

As blood ran down your sinless face
You suffered and died to take my place

So…

May you be glorified in me
I pray it’s only you they see

My life is yours, please have your way
No matter what the world may say

I yearn to see the way you do
To love like you, no matter who

To believe, to pray, to forgive, to wail
Knowing without your Holy Spirit, I will fail

My life on earth is not my own
I’ve exchanged it for a heavenly home

Because you died so I may live
My breath, my all…to you I give

© Misty Black

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Awaiting His Return

Awaiting His return

Will He find you busy
When He comes to gather His bride

Or will He call you wicked
Full of selfishness and pride

He says give unto the poor and needy
For in this, you love Him too

Will you obey His greatest command?
For it’s up to you to choose

Indeed it matters what we do
In the here and now

For will your hands be idle
Or firmly grasping at the plow?

He gives us many lessons, in His Holy Word
But they are all unavailing; if in them we do not learn

The time is near, we must prepare
Our homes, our hearts, our land

Fear shall not overtake us
We find protection by His hand

© Misty Black 2014

Are You Ready?

Are You Ready?

He’s calling, can you hear him?
In the whisper of a gentle breeze and
in complete surrender on your knees.

He’s drawing hearts, can you feel it?
In the joy of the young & old and
In the transformation of your very soul.

He’s renewing, can you see it?
In the cold, fresh drops of rain and
in your very own depths of pain.

He’s healing wounds, do you believe it?
In the flowing tears of a beloved friend and
In the fervent prayers we all send.

He’s restoring, do you need it?
In the pouring out of His Holy Spirit and
In His promise we can expect it

He’s coming back, are you ready?
In His word He makes it very plain
In the twinkling of an eye, never the same

© Misty Black 2014

Black Velvet Curtain

This is a poem written by my husband a few months into his eyes being opened to the truth.  At the time, I was still trying really hard to stay asleep (it was just too overwhelming) so the poem did not really make sense to me.  Since then, we both had forgotten about it actually until today when the Holy Spirit brought it to my mind out of nowhere. This time when he read it aloud, with eyes opened…it made complete sense and I knew I had to share.

 Black Velvet Curtain

The hour of reckoning is near.
Time and space collided fear, fusion in awakened minds of we.
From the beginning of the beginning, we now comprehend.

The vastness is connected to the velocity
and the velocity is connected to the void
and the void is no longer…..
The sleeper has awakened.

Hopelessly hidden,
faithfully forbidden
from behind black velvet veil.

Lurking behind,
evil blinds binding with lies.
Pitch darkness dwells with spindly spires
and wretched reeking stench.

The Shadow Show,
a fantastical flurry, slight of hand,
misdirected magic, ringmaster man.

Handsome hawker, fast talker,
sterling tongued tactician.
Subtle spin, wriggly wondering word play.

Kaleidoscopic confectioneries
coat meaningless menagerie,
distracting illusions whilst the deviant devourers prey.

Precious child feeble family stoke steamy stews
never extinguishing voracious vipers.

Wealth no longer satiates the soulless seeds greed.
Influential power is their only noxious need.
Nevermore! Nevermore!
Crows the cast-away’s and societal in-sane.

From darkest depths of despair comes redemption rebirth.
Just as planned precipitously serendipitously
Torsion time compression expression curls and hurls us to the predestined path.
From the beginning of the beginning
Word, Our loving Father, Creator.

The sleeper wakens woefully,
blurry sight stinging bright white.

Teary eyes wide,
focusing to finally see,
what first-time forgotten, me.

Deja Vu views,
knee bending seas,
arm raising trees,
familiar soft smells,
green cool grass tingling toes.

In the wistful windy hills bells toll,
synapse spark, memories flow.
I now know,
I am Home.

© Michael Black 2012