Pockets of Peace

I never understood what artists meant when they said that they are not the creators of their work, that some energy or God works through them and they are just the instrument. But a couple nights ago I was having this static energy in my hands before I was getting ready for bed. My mind was sagging and tired but I felt like I had to write, like I had this pent up poem in my hands that had to come out otherwise it would keep me awake. So I wrote. And usually I detest poetry, or at least my own. I am no poet. But after I came up with this one, I feel like maybe I could start.

I think I'll call it Staying up with God.

                 

I don't have much to say,

other than I talk too much. 

I skip sounds in my feet

add lyrics to a beat

but I don't know how to be quiet.

Thoughts push like a crowd

and each one is loud

but I don't want to buy it.

Because when I become still

each feeling in me is filled

with  consistent one.

I don't have to be pretty or impressive 

or act tough or aggressive 

as a spirit I am done. 

But these pockets of peace 

are hard to keep 

and in that way (or in of it itself) become vital

In this world that can so easily crash

we drink booze and smoke hash 

to keep away the darkness which comes like a tidal.

That's why you have to grow your glow

reap what you sow 

and know that everyone is here for a reason

Go confidently into life

bring joy into strife

and love yourself, because God never plans for treason.

Repeat, "I am me, I am me

I am strong I am free

and if not then I'm getting there."

I'm no saint or sage 

but I got a pen and this page 

and this is what i've come to share.

They will tell in life: be that or do this 

But to know self,  to know God

my advice,

follow your bliss.