Letter to I Am

Father of the heavenly lights,
I begin sincerely on a note of piety;
expressing my gratitude for these
situations and beings I find myself
surrounded by everyday.
I realise the soothing embrace of your grace upon my face 
everyday, and as I let your light soak in me, I acknowledge your 
tender loving-kindness on the inside and out.
Purify my heart as I yonder on, these uncertain days, upholding 
the very hope you have planted in my soul.
I ask that you abide with me, and grant me
the grace to live as you have instructed.
So help me, giver of all things good.
Amen.

By Emmanuel Johnson

States of isolation

Acquainted with you again;
truly, you are no new companion
because I have shared moments of reason, laughter and sadness 
with you for many, many years.
But now, called into question by this new state,
I ask myself more truthfully:
can I recognise you any longer?
You seem very different this time around.
The state I find myself misleads;
I work reasonably to find a way around it.
But as I get to witness more states around,
I realise ever-static banalities
which shaped past encounters and meanings.
Now I find that very interesting.

By Emmanuel Johnson

States of fantasy

The surreal state;
an alternate rendition of how things could be right now. 
Some I see, vastly different,
others, fairly similar to
the current state.
Oh the day shall come when I shall
grab that piece to behold,
for every time I have sat to conceive of utopia.
The new state
I contemplate,
amidst its grandeur,
frightens me, as I attempt to bring it to being.
Living my fair share of states humbly,
brings to mind, continuously, that,
despite my fear, this and this surely
is what I genuinely desire.

By Emmanuel Johnson

Finding joy

Inflicted with deep restlessness; 
I realise a desire for something 
eternal in being;
to put in plain words.
Words simply cannot: 
they fail to express.
I try my very best, 
but I am unable to:
I fail to communicate.
But I know a knowing;
very true and trustworthy;
which never fails;
who always whispers:
there is that cosmic unity between us, 
which nothing,
no one,
can take away.
No one can,
for I have beheld true joy.
I have beheld true joy.

By Emmanuel Johnson

The situation of the cancelled

In the obscurity of this island,
I find surrounded, isolated clutters
of thought and intent.

Lord,
I have been rejected
by those who once claimed to care.
I am trying to connect to the best of me.
But I recognise the war waging on the inside. 
This something within,
has been decided as the whole of me.
When in truth, it is only a fraction.
I have had plenty of time to reflect,
and I acknowledge all of my ways.
Now, in the final analysis
and dawning of this day,
I am compelled to ask myself the question: 
what becomes of the cancelled?

By Emmanuel Johnson

There came a time

Searching for something;
unaware I was and what it was.
Watching days pass like shifting shadows; 
viewing time in front, side, and back.
Looking vaguely for long,
being misled by false acuity.
The links disconnected and then I saw,
my severed paradigm.
Would you talk to me, my dear paradigm? 
How I need you now, my dear paradigm.
Your love stayed strong, even when I faltered. 
And now I see,
that secret understanding between us,
which you tried to make me see earlier.
Oh how illusioned I was,
my redemptive paradigm.

By Emmanuel Johnson

Trips, memory and imagination

Straight in; not a long trip, 
I feel it substantially.
Not long after,
another trip.

Fast paced service,
dizzy delivery.
I'm speeding down an unknown lane, 
going somewhere I've never been.
I'm not alone; 
a very familiar companion 
by my side,
and my mind,
and in here too.

I arrive, I am alive,
I feel it substantially.
I get to see you again,
I am happy;
I feel it substantially.
This place has a feel to it,
I spend considerable time with you in it. 
But not for long.
I leave, but
I get to see you again.
Oh how you've changed,
things are quite different now.
I feel it deeply.

By Emmanuel Johnson

One thing truly never left

This new journey of mine,
I have treaded; still treading.
Treading never ending.
Well, so it seems.
My days have been favoured coatings, 
flavoured blisters in my mind,
ever pushing. Filters I now find,
ever reminding, like I ever forgot. 
Well, maybe I did.
Filters crying out; every now and then; 
never forget why you parted;
this is all you truly wanted.
To live the life in the count,
and walk the walk on the mount. 
Living the life in the count,
walking the walk on the mount.

By Emmanuel Johnson

Morning sessions

This regret of mine, oh this regret,
words not said, feelings not felt.
I try to be the best that I can be,
my effort laid to waste by this trip.
I wish I could slip to retrace time.
I was alive, in the moment, but empty now.
You filled me, but all I am now is hollow;
a hole where my heart was, in this time apart.
Regrets persist, I know I must, let go.
But to lose this feeling, this sadness, is to lose you.
To choose you or do I choose me?

By Adetiloye, Maybelle, Emmanuel Johnson

Everything is meaningless

Till and toil the soil,
for you never know what you might find.
Till and toil the soil,
toil and sorrow till sun up.
Sorrow for tomorrow, for now, then later.
Then later, much later, comes the smiles that waver,
pain for so little gain; was it worth it? I ask.
Down the road, not far, I know a thing that sparks.
Not too far I promise, a gem that sparks.
Though life doesn’t seem a walk in the park,
The feel I feel, is what I must lay.
Because life comes with it swirls and whirls,
and in the midst of the wind and grind; some fun I must find.

By Maybelle, Emmanuel Johnson, Adetiloye