nightmare is her eyes. Her stare, my frozen
stillness creeps to panic. My darting eyes can't
moment from her sickness. Her hollow eyes are
Whispers quiver, look at me. The old tree
Don't find your way through glass's light. The
wind begins to grow.
Come to, my dove, my little one. The winds rush
through my hair.
fiery glow engulfs me; rolling clouds of
Yahweh, Helper, El Shaddi. The words bedeck Him.
Strong trees will bend. Adonni. The mountain top
Adrenaline rush within my veins. The rocks are
rough to scale.
windy waves bring heavy rains down like a dark,
Tic, tic, the clock of time, it's I who hold
Sturdy trees will bend and die, but I will take
Never stable nor secure, rough waters will
When waters come, will I endure? I Am will be
Hush, stills the gentle myrrh. The waters listen
shepherd's come. I'll save you. The little
Music gleaming touch of his, the mighty trees
Whispers quiver from my lips. His eyes, the
strength for all.
“When I was 18, I was longing for deeper levels
of God. I battled with severe depression
for most of my teenage years and early twenties.
Some days I would come to my dorm room and stand
looking into my mirror, hence the phrase “my
nightmare is her eyes”.
“Strong trees will bend” I was speaking of even
the strong of people have moments where they
bend under the pressure…but God will always be a
strong tower over us.
“Music gleaming touch of his, the mighty trees
won’t fall” I was referring to the presence of
his power in our lives, though no matter how
strong life’s winds blow, his touch will keep us
from falling and being destroyed.”