Peering out, everything’s still. Glassy trees, shiny hills. A beautiful spill. From the clouds above. White as a dove. Perfect uniform covering, fits like a glove. But in need of a shove. Or an act of Love. In order to break free.
Why? Well, life is beneath…it’s just frozen and ensheathed. Chattering teeth. Fear that can’t breathe. Stuck in her seat, a heart struggles to beat.
We’re just like those trees.
They’re chained and constrained by freezing rain. We’re restrained and contained within walls of our pain. But Truth still remains. There’s an end to the rain; blood rushes back through our veins. Identity’s not found in our stains. Nor in what chains…us.
It’s only in the One who made us. Who claims us.
He’s not like the others; He won’t play us. Or betray us. He says “Trust…
For there’s beauty in this season. Purpose and reason. I’ll hold you when you’re freezin. We’ll get through this storm. I’m the One who can help—it’s not on you to perform—but I who transforms.
Death to life. Evil to good. That my job, Girl. Plant your roots in my ‘hood!”
~Nicole (AKA DJ Nick-izzole)
*Thanks for letting me publicly display my elementary white girl attempt at fly rhymes. haha.