By Davishio, our resident poet

A cold bead of sweat kisses my brow

The rock in my chest palpitates more

My eyes thicken, my sight narrows

As a cold shiver tingles my marrow

It is today, not tomorrow

My mind races, I swallow

Like a convict stepping to the gallows

And my parched throat wallows

Not in pain, fear I cannot allow

This is me

This is the time

Will my step be in sync

Will my turn be a tick

I swoon, my head feels thick

My tummy begins to feel sick

The sound wrecks my psyche

The stage is in sight

My body will soon give up the fight

Pave room for insight

Now is not the time to give up the ghost

Because there behold destiny calls

Like Samson, I push the walls

As the lights turn on

The glare blinds me not

I turn mine off, and let Him lead

I am the dough, for Him to knead

My faculties the crowd for Him to feed

That restless soul in anguished need

I am clay, He the potter indeed

So as I stump and pound, leave the floor to plead.

I rest assured am not in the lead

Emma’s voice will fade

Like a forgotten dream as I gaze

In the infinitesimal abyss of the audience

As the smoke asphyxiates my fears

It is for such a time as this

When creation sees

Not me, but Him

Who moves my sinews, my senses

Who jumps and twists my body

Who lifts my wiggle for His glory

Who makes the devil feel sorry

Who turns mine into His story

Who lifts my soul to the top most storey

I am not me, I am Him

And that’s what entails

Being a dancer for His glory

I am CLAY, He the POTTER


4 thoughts on “PARADIGM SHIFT

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