Feathers A Christian Poem About Letting Go of Fear and Worry

Feathers

The weight of the world
is a feather in the hand of its maker.
It does not burden, break, or bury
the one who reigns outside of Time and Space's domain.

Our behemoths are merely single barbs
attached to that weightless shaft 
that flutters like the forest's souvenirs
given to a child, fallen from the wings of a jay.

In his hand our juggernauts 
are not threats but specimen.
His palm is large enough
to hold worry ad infinitum.

Push the crushing fear
off your chest and rest,
knowing that it's but a harmless feather
fluttering in your father's hand.

Justin Farley

Light Wielder Poem About Bringing the Kingdom of Heaven to Earth

Light Wielder

Crystals hang from the heavenly chandelier
on the city upon the hill.
Catching light and doing for the eyes
what wind chimes do for the ears.

     A rustling.
     An awakening
     of an ancient force
     that remembers,
     that yearns
     with an unquenchable thirst
     for transcendence
     for totality
     for unity
     for eternity.

Crystals catch the sun's light,
act like mirrors with the power
of those at the Pharos lighthouse,
and reflect it to the ends of the earth.
Never giving birth to work
by its own power,
only transmitting a greater light
whose flame has burned
indefatigable to the chagrin of the night.

Again.

     A rustling.
     An awakening
     of an ancient force
     that remembers,
     that yearns
     with an unquenchable thirst
     for transcendence
     for totality
     for unity
     for eternity.

I count
hundreds
thousands
millions
of crystals dangling like diamonds,
gleaming beneath the sun.
Dazzling like the thread
of the spider's web she's spun
catching the nightmares of the world
like colossal dream catchers,
waking up those who've fallen asleep,
and giving sight to a world walking in darkness.

Justin Farley





An Outstretched Hand Poem About God’s Grace

An Outstretched Hand

Grace waits patiently for everyone
like Charon beside the River Styx.
But Grace requires no coinage
for sin's payment has been nixed.
The sound of a boulder's rumble,
louder to the soul than deafening thunder,
is the receipt for the cost of transgression, paid in full.
It leaves even angels still in wonder
at the depth of love that bears such a brutal toll.
Grace holds her breath with an outstretched hand, 
the pinnacle choice of life for every man.
Grace's hand is still open to you.
Will you take it?

Justin Farley

Deus Homo Poem For Good Friday Lent and Easter

Deus Homo

Who is this man
who hangs like fruit from a tree
baking beneath the sun
shrunken, shriveled like a prune,
writhing in misery?

Who is this man
whose flesh is being used like lumber –
cold, iron nails piercing hands and feet,
under the weight of the world,
under the weight of a pounding hammer?

Who is this man
who forgives while being crushed by their sin,
who turns the other cheek
while being jeered and spat at
time and time again?

Who is this man
who cries out, “My God, my God,
why have you forsaken me”,
who breathes his last breath
and swings motionless from a tree?

Who is this man
whose death shakes the earth at her core,
who brings the roars of thunder,
and tore the veil of the Temple,
open for all forevermore?

And who is this man
who Death couldn’t hold,
older than the dawn of time,
grander than the universe itself,
who creates anew, who constantly unfolds?

He is Jesus of Nazareth.
He is the Christ.
He is the Word made flesh.
He is the Light that conquers the darkness.
He is the inspirational force of creation.
He is the sound blaring in the silence.
He is Deus Homo.

Justin Farley

Hello, everyone! I have recently published my first chapbook of Christian poems titled “A Voice in the Wilderness – A Chapbook of Poems about God”. This has been developed and polished over the past six months or so. I am happy with the final product and hope you find encouragement in the poems but also a validation that the spiritual life is not all sunshine and rainbows. We all struggle. We all have periods of questions and/or doubt. But it is the yearning that keeps us coming back for more and allows us to experience joy.
You can purchase either on Amazon or on my own bookstore (it is cheaper and has free shipping on my store) and is available on the Kindle and in paperback.
Amazon: Kindle Paperback
Inkspiration Books (my bookstore): Paperback

Thank you for your support!

Happiness is Fleeting A Poem About Being Content with Life

Happiness is Fleeting

If happiness is your goal
you'll never be whole.
Always be rolling on a raging river
of emotion completely out of control.

For happiness is fleeting, receding like the waters
on a creek bank after a storm,
never even warned that the moment 
one desire is fulfilled a new one is born.

Seek to make contentment your aim.
For it's constant through the winds of change;
its heat still warms the soul
though the fire's flame waxes and wanes.

For contentment accepts life as it is.
Realizes there's as much to be grateful
for in pain as in bliss.
Discontentment always follows happiness.

Justin Farley

Metamorphosis A Poem About Butterflies and God’s Grace

Metamorphosis 
A Poem About Butterflies and God's Grace

Inching along the earth
crunching, munching on misfortune
until pain wrapped itself like a cocoon -
a castle outside the rooms of a hardened heart.

Drowning, surely dying in the dark.
Only to emerge from the womb
reborn from a tomb of self-inflicted wounds
transformed by the Divine spark.

With wings of vibrant color
carrying the evidence of change 
arrayed like a roadmap
dotted with places been
and places going.

Flapping with the wings of grace
embraced by the breeze of blessing
a chrysalis replaced,
made anew by the Spirit's pressing. 

Justin Farley

They Say…

They Say...

They say follow your heart,
but I'm thoroughly convinced
mine doesn't know where
the hell it's going.

They say the heart wants
what the heart wants.
Mine wants to pull down the shades
and get rip-roaring drunk.

They say love yourself.
I think if I love myself any more
I'm going to join Narcissus
at the bottom of that damn pool.

They say put yourself first,
but I'm so far in the lead
that there's no one left
for me to pass.

But He says 
I'm broken beyond belief,
that my heart is deceptive,
and can't be trusted.

He says that only fools
follow the desires of the heart
because they lead to
bottomless pits, never satisfied.

He says quit staring
at yourself in that mirror,
that my hope isn't found in self love,
it's in the depth of His love.

He says the first shall be last
and to love my neighbor as myself,
to help pick up the wounded runners
rather than worry about what place I finish in.

I love my heart,
which is why it's so painful to admit
that His Word sounds like truth,
and culture sounds like childish chatter.

Justin Farley

Planting is a Prayer Poem

Planting is a Prayer

Planting is a prayer.
If you do it right.
If you take delight in the present
but keep future possibility in sight.

For God doesn't need words.
With each heart beat
you lay at his feet
a million complaints, hopes, fears,
doubts, joys, and defeats.

A creator knows its creation
better than the creation itself.
Your ink filled his pen.
He outlines your story, your end
before it evens begins
but allows you freewill 
over the final edits.

Planting is a prayer.
If you do it right.
If you're aware you've been given oversight
in a chapter of a story
that's been continually expanding
since the Word first spoke to the void:

"Let there be light".
Let you delight
in the blessing you've been given - 
partial control over the story of life.

Justin Farley

Conversion Poem About the Love and Grace of God

Conversion
A Poem About the Love and Grace of God

I began divided.
Quite selfish with a heart hungry for evil
yet filled with a deep longing brewing
below the surface that never seemed fulfilled
by anything other than you.
So what was I to do - 
in love with myself and my selfish desires
but realizing more each day my need for you?

I opened my ears to your voice
but kept my heart safely distant.
You told me to follow you.
And I obeyed...
at a snail's pace,
slowly inching my way towards your grace.

The closer I came the louder my name
reverberated from your lips.
Though the louder too were my selfish longings.
Lust ran high in the dry, dusty desert of restraint
and tried to pull me back
into the slavery of gratification.
 
I gave in time and time again
but refused to allow my sin
to convince me to hide in shame from you.
For at the core of my being,
I knew you held something true - 
an answer to a question about the essence of life itself
that couldn't be answered along any other path but yours.

So I continued hauling my heavy shell behind me
and sluggishly crawled onward,
but the way forward didn't get any easier.
I only found myself more divided,
fragmented into forces fighting within myself.

My head became a bed for commotion,
tossing me to and fro like the waves of the ocean.
The inner struggle only made me more aware
of the seriousness of my situation:
I had a head full of God
and a heart unwavering it its insistence
upon serving itself.

It was daunting,
haunting me in its clutches
and causing me to lose sleep
like a nightmare stuck on repeat,
waking me up in the night
to the harsh realities of life.

How was I to serve two masters
and attend to both of their matters?
My ego wasn't lulled to sleep
nor cowered to the call for its destruction.
But raged and rattled the cage
your spirit had created for it.

I trusted that your grace
was vaster than all the stars
shinning forth forgiveness in the dark
to the farthest corners of the universe;
surely my sin was no match for your goodness.

I resolved to stop worrying
so much about "do nots"
that I never seemed capable of obeying
and to focus on following through on the "dos"
I was perfectly capable of undertaking.

And there your spirit freed
a seemingly unsavable prisoner
from the bondage of self
and turned me towards the Divine.
For you kept me so busy doing your will
that I forgot about mine.

Justin Farley