Speaking Life, Speaking Death

I’ve discovered that,

My brain is a place that knows no bounds

Of expression,

A magazine containing thoughts of live rounds

That lock themselves

In the chamber of my mouth

As my tongue cocks back,

Hammers forward and spits them out.

I’ve discovered the irony

Of saving a life while taking another

Like shooting the gunman

Holding a pistol to the head of my brother.

That’s gossip.

And then there’s the speech that ‘wasn’t meant that way’.

Idle words, that equate to a

Negligent discharge and still count as foul play.

I guess that’s why it’s best

To gently squeeze the trigger, staying in control

Because idle words can easily

Embed in the holes of someone’s soul.

You know. Holes caused

By bullying, holes caused by rape

And holes caused by words

Spoken against someone’s colour, sexuality or shape.

Holes caused by

Experiencing, witnessing domestic violence

And holes caused by the

Self-harm of those suffering in silence.

Holes that, when blocked

By a tongue that’s out of control,

Induce the flooding

And drowning of a weakened soul.

And consider,

Words spoken today in light-hearted jest

Could, tomorrow, become

The noose tightening around a heavy-hearted neck.

You can only curse or bless.

Are you speaking life or are you speaking death?

A quick acknowledgement.

Sticks and stones may

Break my bones but words will never hurt me.

But I think we’d all take a

6 weeks heal-time over years of a mind muddled murky.

You know what I mean.

When you question if what they said was maybe right.

And I speak from experience

Because I know I’ve had those sleepless nights

Where inward frustration,

Caused by a lack of knowing why,

Caused outward tears.

Sometimes, so sad even my tears would cry.

But that’s another conversation.

From these times

Of Death came the lessons of speaking life.

Unlike a phoenix from the ashes,

We LEARN speaking life from peaking strife

Because speaking

Life is LEARNED, it doesn’t grow wild

Like untrimmed brambles.

Thorns and berries, harsh and mild.

There’s purpose

And a focused intent in one direction

And I found that the

Speaking of life is found in the Resurrection.

The Resurrection of Christ.

You see his last WORDS

On the cross were, “It is finished!” but then he rose

So He couldn’t

Have been talking of the end of life so we know

Death has a certain end

But life, life, through the death of Christ, always goes on

So, to speak Christ is

To speak life and die without Christ is wrong.

I said ‘His last WORDS on the cross’

Because, after that came His actions, the verbs of the cross

You see, you can’t SPEAK

Life if you don’t DO life, the verbs of the cross.

Love.

When you speak and do

Love, you speak and do life, not death.

So die to self

And speak Love into lives until there’s no death left.

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