Poetic relics

I was browsing my old files when I was a student, when I saw the "Compilation of Poems" I made for our Humanities class exhibit on Aug.14, 2008.

I was like an adult who accidentally saw all the toys which I used to cherish as a little kid. I suddenly missed poetry.

I don't exactly remember why or how I had an appetite to compose poems. All I recall is that years back, I was amazed whenever I read poems, they're like music in my ears. I could tell if a poem is happy or sad, if it's mourning or rejoicing. It doesn't have to say much, the words just go straight to the heart.

And so, whenever I write a poem, it's not my fingertips that I use, it's my heartbeats. I do not make imaginations real, I imagine realities. My inner thorns then slowly transform into warm liquid beads, which then transform into rhymes.

I started to read the poems in my compilation one by one and the emotions enveloped in them flashed back in my mind. I was so overwhelmed - my poems are sweet written accounts of my colorful sepia past.

To my delight, my poems vary a lot in mood, in texture, in form, in melody. They talk about puppy love, friendship, teenage life, family, even concern for nature!

Some of them demurely talk about the feelings I have kept inside as a little girl, and my silent search for affection and acceptance as I was growing up.

Some of them scream for anger, for simple joys, for promise of revenge, for pain of rejection, for scars of heartbreaks.

Then I realized, this compilation is a beautiful reminder of how faithful God is, and how He works in my character, in my heart, in my life... just like a clay, being meticulously molded by caring, loving hands.*

And I'd love to share these poems to you! I'm gonna post them in my next blogs, and try to have some footnotes about how I feel that time while I was writing them, and my realizations thereafter.

God was there when I was lost and I didn't know Him yet. He was there when it's not merely the ink of my pen that's staining my piece of paper, it's my tears. And He was there when I found freedom from my fears, doubts, and shadows of the past, when I received Him in my heart and made Him Lord of my life.

But He's not finished with me yet. Just like you, I am also His work-in-progress, "being confident that He who began a good work in me will bring it to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." (Philippians 1:6).

There may be tests of character, there may be challenges, there may be pains, but let us not forget that we are clay, being shaped into perfection. We just have to put our faith and trust to our loving Potter.

          *Yet, O Lord, You are our Father. We are the clay, You are the potter; we are all the work of Your hand. Isaiah 64:8