MICHAEL DYER
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​A LUMBERING SOUL
​BUT TRYING TO FLY

946.4.26

7/14/2014

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I see the world inverted 
My brain picks things up 
Makes them upside down 
So I can see things right

I see it in shapes in varying shades of bent light
Cutting and curving through the cells that float invisible between us. 
Trying to break their way into this vault of mine.
Waves on an ocean I can only dream of. 

I see a list of impossibilities. 
This mirror that stands a broken six feet tall in front of me. 
It's filled with them. 
Geometric shapes and sizes,
Organized to construct constructs 
That I've built up in my mind. 

I so badly wish I could 
Break down the walls that stand between us.

So much of myself has gotten between us. 
So much of who I say I am stands opposed 
To who You call me. 

So give me a little grace if I forget at times. 
Because I forget at times. 
Who I am. 
I remember who I’m suppose to be. 
People tell me all the time. 
But sometimes, I forget who I am. 

I forget that no matter how many ocean, 
Or how much dirt I try to bury myself in, 
You still call me by the same name. 

Who I am depends so little upon who I am 
And so much more upon who You are. 

But You know me, I get impatient. 
I’ve been waiting to arrive at a point that I’m starting to see 
Doesn’t actually exist, but rather it’s a countinual event. 
It’s more than a destination for You, 
It’s more of a journey. 

And this journey has had it’s ups and downs. 
I’ve been filled with questions and doubts, 
Confusion and anger. 
Hurt. 
Disgust. 
Sorrow. 
Depression.
Joy. 
Hope. 
Disappointment. 
and
Wanting. 

And through it all. I see faithfulness
Scribed on my spine 
And sewn into the fabric of my knees. 

Without You I’d unravel. 
You are the tension that keeps me together, 
Strong without breaking, 
Loose enough for grace, 
Not to be mistaken for slack.
You have drawn me out, 
Leading me homeward. 

Tie a knot on the doorknob. 
Mark it with scarlet. 
Bring me home. 
Meet me in the field, 
Put You hand on my heart.

Take my word. 

I don’t bring with me many gifts, 
But this heart of mine, beating in my chest, 
Off beat and off kilter at times, 
This muscle that pushes life through me. 
I give you till it stops. 

Till this conductor of mine grows cold, 
I give you:
Everything that I come with, 
Each bag, memory, thought, vision, sight, taste, and word. 
I break myself at Your feet, 
Knowing full well I’ll never be worthy, 
Knowing I can't earn this,
But being fully confident You’ll accept me, 
Because You are. 
I know who You are. 

You are I Am, You say I’m Yours.
So I must be worth it. 

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