No.163: Orders From On High.

I never fancied myself a poet.

In high school, I rolled my eyes
at every wannabe rapper who told me he was gone blow up
'cause he finally managed to get some studio time.

That being said, if I had to pick a craft, 
it would've been the one you can jam to,
stream on Spotify, 
and to be honest I've tried, I’m trying,
and I still might,
but the Spirit stamped patience on my forehead,
told me to read more, want less, and write,

but I asked, 
“what if no one pays attention?
My message ain't exactly good vibes.
Plus, does anybody even read in 2018?
Who wants conscious bars on God and life, 
a capella, on paper, on a Tuesday night?”

He said, 
that's a lot of backtalk for a such a clear command,

He said,
just write, 
let me worry 'bout the master plan.
The only stars that care how much they shine
are the ones that fall, 
so suffocate your pride. 

I need you focused, alive, eyes open,
wise, unfiltered, toxic
to the blind guides,
so just write.

I gave you the rhythm, 
they gone feel the beat between the lines
and when it’s time,
my spirit will echo from the mic,

so keep calm, keep watch, keep patience,
and write, 
write when they hate you, 
write when they love you,
write when it's easy,
when it's uncomfortable, 
don't dodge the light,
even when it shows your filth, 
that's why the Son died.

Don't waste your grace,
‘cause if safe is what I needed you to be,
you wouldn't be at peace in the fight.

Don't start acting weird,
don't try to be cool,
I already filled your veins with ice
and marked you in the womb,
so don't stop writing until I tell you to.

I’m not done with you, there is work to do.
Your break is coming
no time soon.
You didn’t ask for this,
you didn’t search for me.
But I Am who I Am,
and you are who I made you to be. 

So when they ask,
who sent you,
tell them it was me. 
When they tell you to stop,
show the blood on the leaves.

I raised you in the fire,
this part should be a breeze.
Take this ink.
Wake the sleep.
Expose every lie.
Show what it means
to bring the dark to light,
and stare into the night,
with bloodshot eyes--
don’t get tired.

This is just the beginning, the first quarter. 

You wanna be my knight?
Aight. Ace your first order.

Write.

Cover Photo by Art Lasovsky on Unsplash