Inner Renovations, Poetry & Musings

broken forgiveness.

forgiveness

I struggle with forgiveness.

It’s easy to talk about letting go and letting God.

But doing so is one of my greatest challenges.

Giving up control is an almost impossible feat for a control freak.

Letting go is a tall order when I am used to holding on to everything for dear life.

Loving with a broken heart, trusting through broken faith,

smiling through pain is difficult for even the most well put together of us.

Some of us have mastered the art of falling apart

and putting ourselves back together again before anyone notices.

Put back together so well that you have to get up close and personal to notice the cracks –

this being the reason for my distance.

It comes easy for some; saying the right thing, feeling the right way,

even knowing what’s right in the first place.

Often times, I can’t tell.

I express what’s in my heart, say what’s on my mind,

and have too many feelings at one time to know what is right.

Often, I am wrong.

People struggle to forgive me.

They talk about letting go and letting God.

But doing so is one their greatest challenges.

 

Inner Renovations, Poetry & Musings

Question for Thought: What’s Your Motivation?

question mark

Finding out what drives us is a very important step in being able to keep ourselves going. Sometimes we are propelled by sheer passion for our purpose and during those spells, productivity is a piece of cake. Then there are other times, when we’re not sure if we should bother. And if we do want to bother we struggle with the energy to follow through with what we know needs to be done. It is in those moments that we have to reconnect with our original purpose, the motivating factor behind our life’s work, and allow our devotion to our cause to push us to the finish line even when our legs feel like they won’t take another step. The big question is, What IS your motivation?

Inner Renovations, Poetry & Musings

social justice we insist.

we insist

You will know us, cry the dead.

You will hear us, say the living.

Together they begin to form a union that cannot be broken

By the frustration of those who would rather pretend

That the problem has been resolved,

Or worse – that it never existed.

The names of those who died under unjust circumstances

Are too many to list.

Their souls impatiently waiting.

Expecting descendants to reenlist

In the legions for human dignity, redesign unfinished wars,

Turning over in the graves of those who marched and slaved before.

The uprooted and disbanded, trails of tears, left empty-handed.

We hear you, say the living.

And we understand it.

The problem did not die with you, the killers still exist.

Hypocrisy runs rampant and the murders still persist.

Mothers, fathers, children hunted, their blood shed by terrorists.

They will know us! say the living to the dead.

We insist.

~ CCB

Inner Renovations, Poetry & Musings

post-dramatic.

There is a grumbling.

Beneath the feet of the wandering tribes the earth trembles.

Tremors felt to the core of the soul.

So long disconnected from that place, so long ignored

Almost unrecognizable.

But there is something undeniable

Too dramatic to be ignored.

Not forgotten, but repressed – borne of post-traumatic stress.

Breaking out beneath the surface.

Time to face the great unrest.

~ CCB