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by Luke Adamkiewicz
Poetry or Prayer?
Poetry or Prayer?
A word from Luke:
Although I would define these as poems, many of them I consider prayers as well. I wrote nearly all of them while in Eucharistic Adoration, and a lot of them resemble the Psalms of the Old Testament. They contain plenty of the same emotions as David's songs and reflect many of the experiences of the time in which I wrote them. Each one is a slice of my heart, I hope they spark a glimmer of sunlight in yours.
Tender
Sweet hand, tender care.
My head rests gently in
your lap. You hold me
here and whisper, "All is good."
You never cling or hurt me
with your grasp, yet
you are are firm and cry
out when I remove.
Shadow behind me, shadow inside.
You quell the night and
destroy my fear.
My heart is aglow with your
power and might; aflame is
my soul at the winds of
your wings.
Reach out. I am here.
Whisper gently, tender bearer.
The night reaches deep, don't fear the dawn.
He comes on the clouds, fear not the fall.
Dead Bones, Heart Aflame
My soul cries out in unceasing terror
My heart aches with a fear untamed
Because my control of the demons around me
is tearing my soul from the pit of my tomb.
I fear the night, it heightens my darkness.
I wish no more for the blinding light.
It burns through my scabs and feeds through the cracks.
It seeps to my soul and in darkness it giveth.
Heart, awake! No terror be here,
for the shadow of the vile one is gone, disappeared.
I ruin the ruins of shame and regret.
The pain is dried up and the scales are returning.
Under tree, beneath blossom I'm led.
I fear the release, the relief is my dread.
Why? O Why? Do my fears unbelieve me?
The cracks come alive, don't dread me, come feel me.
Strings of the Ever-song
My heart echos the rhyme of your time
it vibrates in praise of your song.
A sweet hymn rises through my lungs
and my mouth never ceases your words.
Always and forever will my hymn be praise.
Never can I think of closing my mouth.
The song comes deep and strings break forth,
rhythm and rhyme of time and space.
I never knew my voice wasn't mine.
I thought it was gifted for me alone,
but it never was, it's to be returned
to you alone who sang it first.
My heart dissolves at the breath of your life
and seeps upward out of my soul.
It ascends with incense of sweet-smelling soil,
and my silence ends with a cry of joy.
You bring my further than my heart can stretch.
I am desperate for a taste of the ever-song.
My ears fail to hear when they are pierced with pure light.
Heart and mouth align in the strength of your song.
Autumn
Autumn
Crisp morning lightness of the air beneath my feet.
I sense the dawn of dusk as I venture near the streets.
Down come the trees, their fruit-falls and leaves.
I tingle with the onset of autumn.
Crunched leaves underfoot as the path I make is trod.
Soon shall they all be off tree and on lawn.
The nature round us signals death and decay,
but a second wind of life afresh in hearts that delay.
Concerning the weather we see lots of change,
new seasons bring various methods and ways.
Gentle breeze, swaying branch;
cider flows, sweaters dance.
The harvest approaches, gather near to sing thanks.
Remember the coming autumn of soul and old age.
When leaf underfoot sound crisp autumn crunch,
feel the weight of our time and go out to brunch!
Descent
Beyond the blue
Stardom can't see
Unveil the chest of hopes and dreams
Fears below
Shadows cross
Wish I felt the new dawn now
Why not
Don't run
I can't see the ground before
Cry
Melt
We hear the trees break forth in song
Heart of Wax
Heart of Wax
The light off the cross.
Roads deep in my heart find
the echo of troubled winds.
The crest of the wood.
Into the barrens I trek
no thought whence.
Where seek thou a friend
a course trenchmate instead.
Casting, drenching, the everflow wanes.
Tears fill the buckets at the
end of my bed.
Creatures fling their fingers and
toes awry, ancient forth pressings
above deep water tubs.
Candles of the crucifix ember and fade.
The last glowing coal is felt cold now.
Cascading rythmic tumbling, the rumbling within.
When is the fire? What is the wax?
I can't see it cling. My muscles are tearing.
Away at my bones the cold flame has me sharing
my heart to the ear, no red herring.
Small box of precious cargo, why sit so silent and still?
I'll stare with my eyes until
I learn to see with my soul.
Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving
Come in out from the cold
Where it's safe, clean, and warm
and new folks all mix with the old.
Stay a while or the night
There's no need to rush back
For in here there is plenty of light.
I feel the warm set in
My cheeks and toes empty numb
And the home of my heart may begin.
Who would have thought
That as ages roll on,
The thing I hold never was bought?
But the years without rest
and the lines on my skin
tell me giving thanks is still when life's best.
Mom's got the oven hot,
Dad's got football on,
And the niblings are playing outside.
They come back in for dinner,
We sit down for the feast,
And the laughs start while we all abide.
At this most festive of meals
We share the scenes and the lines
from Planes, Trains, and Automobiles.
Every year it comes quickly
And soon it's all gone again
But this time it will go differently.
We may leave here alone,
Go our separate ways then,
But Thanksgiving brings all of us home.
Graves of Light
Come, O fount of Wisdom from on High.
Into the night the light of your eye.
It beckons deep and into my soul
you ravage the beasts and pay the toll.
Why fear the shadows beneath the soil
when for nought did they toil?
Your heart was won by him who died
and yet you doubt that Truth had lied?
Present your gift to the aged Rock,
why watch the never-changing clock?
You wander and you wait for what
you've known what's yours that He once bought.
The light shines through the seeping soul.
The wind blows to the weeping pool.
The waves crash hard against your mind.
Will God spurn or laugh when the clock you wind.
Paradox of Nature's Death
Bring the cup O heart-bearer,
Swing down the gentle vine,
Bring up the tempest dreamer,
Deep in the heart divine.
Why cry the forests bare?
Why scream the oceans deep?
Why flee the pris'ners there,
From their chains in the keep?
Do they sting like cream?
Does it burn like water?
Attend the wound and redeem,
The coals turn ever hotter.
Run fast my weary soul,
Crawl if you must.
Cling to him and behold
The Word that lets you trust.
You Shall Return
Cry out my feet of dust
It shakes the whole earth
When He comes down to rattle
Those who are torn by lust.
The body merely flesh now quakes at dawn of dusk.
The twilight of my eye crests shadows of my husk.
Foggy dreams and nightly weeping
Console the dread and deadly tempest.
Night bequeaths its solemn keeping
And the fast sets in my kept mist.
These bones are aching, my dry mouth pants.
Deserted by the world, left alone at long last.
I am nothing, I am nowhere, no one sees my shattered heart.
Beset by danger, lives in shadows He has come to set apart.
7 Churches
7 Churches
In your steps Lord, I seek to tread,
your sleepless night my bed.
Into the cold and friendless night,
near to you in your plight.
The stone is cold and hard
upon your bruised skin.
The chains wrap tight and far away
a low and whispered din.
They plot all night to kill you,
defame and try to trick you.
Yet here you are with head bowed low
in prayered speech you murmer slow.
In the dark you are left all alone
no bed, no light, just bleak stone.
No consolation for your soul bereft
the silence and shadow are all that's left.
Metal and brick surround you,
what did you do to deserve this?
No one to hold or comfort you,
not one single tender kiss.
In the morning what comes but more sorrow,
there should be no hope for tomorrow,
but you patiently await the trial at dawn
and eagerly pray to courageously go on.
As night ticks on you shiver and quake,
pain rises every move you make.
Your eyes grow weary, deprived of sleep,
every heart on your soul you keep.
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