The Poet

  Dedicated to anyone, any mother,  or wife, who has moved, again, and again, and again.

                                                    

The Search for Home

I've learned to quickly come and go.

There is no staying; Only staying in uncertainty and the not knowing.

City after city, House after house, box upon box, I'm often feeling lost.

Home is found; not within four walls, but within arms full of love.

The comforting rhythm of daily life, a space bathed in light.

On a search for home I know what I see is temporary but what I build is not.

What I build with my thoughts, love, time, will stand long after the address is gone.

As I search for home, I hope to build one for those that I love.

Being a home for each other may be more important than having one.


 


In Honor of  our Faithful Father who changes seasons and anyone waiting for things to turn around.


                      




/Seeds/

I see a scattering of seeds. you see strong and mighty trees.

I see failed attempts and plans, you see the making of something grand.

I see shortcomings an broken limbs, you see the chance to begin again.

I see a weary heart, wounded and frightened.

You see a beautiful wholeness and place of restoration.

I see a seed that will never be enough.

You see a priceless treasure for whom you wont give up.

I see darkness and a burial, you see hope springing through the surface.

I see something small, not worth the wait.

You see a tender seed waiting to be remade.



Copyrights Hannah Lacy 2015



Dedicated to anyone who has ever been hurt, wounded, weak, depressed or weary.

Disappointed, lost or tired. Frustrated or empty.

Chasing Life/ /Chasing God

Run, run, run as fast as you can. You can't catch life's elusive plans.

One day here, the next day gone.

Filling your heart then stealing your song.

You didn't plan for the set-backs, struggles, and challenges.

Couldn't account for how you found yourself cut down by them.

Shocked by how your value seemed to drop in an instant, like stock markets crash overnight.

In one minute the world pulled from beneath where you stand, no time to break the fall and come up with a plan.

Faking it till you make it just won't do the trick when the desire to get up again is gone.

What's there to Chase when your hope is no longer strong? Can anyone right this wrong?

Holding what you built in clenched fists is a sure sign of demolition.

Hands are meant to be held open, to be filled, then to give.

Chasing Life will surely lead to disappointment... unless you're chasing the one who created it.

You find yourself on top only to be turned down.

The same crowd that cheered you on is suddenly nowhere to be found.

Everything you gave yourself for suddenly seems so temporary.

All your investments, all your worrying, leading to a dead end.

Your Hungry for any sign that this terrible loss can be reversed.

Any sign of beauty or truth ....

Can your pain be silent? Can the ache be numb?

Not alone.

This Chase, this pursuit, will leave you weary.

Leave your soul lost, like an old forgotten box.

There is one who overcame; the death, the shame, the agonizing pain.

He forgave the betrayer, befriended the abandoned, lifted up the weak, and cleaned dirty feet.

Chase Life, you're sure to be left breathless and disillusioned.

Chase God and you may lay down your life, but you will find it.

Chase what can be found and not what will be lost.

Copyrights Hannah Lacy 2015 and 2016