The Hollow of the Wood

I wrote this poem, while watching this video of one of the students who attends the youth ministry I direct. The style of artistry this kid uses touches my heart. Another young friend sent me a text with this scripture this week. The combination inspired the words I wrote.
“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” John 16:33

The Hollow of the Wood
by: Elisa Parmer

Listening to the mellow beats and strums
Plucks and slaps, rhythm attacks.
The tings and pings picking high notes from strings
And it’s as if I know you more.
Things are a little clearer than before
And I remember how you make things beautiful.

At times I lose sight of you.
The lights get dimmer and I find my hands stretching out
In hopes to touch your face.
In this place
I will have troubles.
You promise me that.
And I’m feelin those  growing pains,
The hurts and the shame, Lord it’s starting to drain
The life out of me.

This isn’t the kind of promise I was hoping you’d make good on.
Just feels like a lot of weight to put on
These days,
In ways
That I didn’t see coming.
But then this kid starts strumming .
Energy’s humming, palms and thumbs drumming
Echoed in the hollow of the wood.

It’s as if a melody is starting to arise
And then pangs of high notes remind me to look up.
It’s an August Rush
Of emotion.
With sounds of the world coming together making sweet music.
Then my mind starts to fuse it
With the Gospel. That while the world seems hostile,
These pangs remind me that you overcame, are overcoming, and will overcome.
According to some,
This life is hopeless
Because we don’t know how to cope stress
Heal wounds,
but soon
I am going to meet you.
Weird, that a boy flicking the body of guitar,
Reminds me that we have already met.

The Weight of a Sparrow

The weight of a Sparrow

By Elisa Parmer

Had I the gift of penmanship

I would scratch you out a poem.

One with phrases so light,

They'd ride on the gentle breeze of a summer day

You Created;

Spoken on breath soft enough to kiss infant face

Powerful enough to push waves over cities.

And my words would be deep.

Deep like the ocean current that carries great sea turtles through

A poem for you

To your Glory, lest I should boast in my own fancy airs.

And who cares

If my metaphors seem weak

Or too ridiculous to speak.

This is not for the eyes and ears of doctors of literature

Learned theologians or even Televangelists.

For only you know the price on my sins.

Only you know the measurement of Grace required to pay my slaver.

You didn't offer a loan

Deferred for six months post my graduation to righteousness.

But you bartered your own bread and wine

You told me to drink of it often to remember the exchange.

Never did anyone offer such a sum

For an item so in need of repair.

You shared

The inheritance of a firstborn

With a dead man walking.

For that ransom I would paint you a seascape

A classic composition where the water

Is so vivid

You would keep a safe distance as not to get your shirt wet.

And I bet

I have disappointed you over and over.

There are days where I put more faith in the luck of a four leaf clover

Yet you are patient with me

Like waiting on the branches of a young tree

You wait,

Participate in my growth

Until the day you make me strong enough

To support the weight of a sparrow.

And even if an ounce more would crack the wood and shake my leaves

You delight in my strength.

Because for the first time

It came from your roots.