Secret Place Poem by David Olughu

The seat of intimacy.
The meeting point of mortal and immortal.
The dining table of divinity and humanity.
The place I long to be;
a place where encounters are bred,
a place where we nurture our new nature,
a place where emotions don't rule but intention is full.
Prayer, my daily bread.
Praises, my only words.
Worship, my lifestyle.
Father to child, gentle and mild are His touches,
as He gets rid of your mishaps with the blood that washes.
A place of holiness.
Frees you from every unholy mess.
Gives you a beautiful dress.
An outfit meant for an empress.

My secret place,
where worship knows no bounds;
freedom undenied.
Indeed, a fullness of expression.
As the Father dances to the rhythm of my praise,
comforted bliss; ecstacy.
Time is no constraint,
though hours feel like mere seconds.
But what does time mean when you dine with He that is timeless - eternal
Days go by and I still stay,
I hunger and thirst for refreshment.
I pant for more of Him.
I don't want just the Hem of His garment,
I want the whole of Him.

I'm the apple of His eyes,
the reason He sent His son to die,
His masterpiece of creation.
From Him alone, I draw strength.
Though I may look like a cat,
I possess the roar of a lion.
So when he says "come unto me my child",
In joy and brokeness, I go.
Guided by His Spirit - Holy.
Flesh no longer has a say.

My secret place is not a place.
It's an atmosphere.
For you to be able to run this race,
you must define your own quiet sphere.

#TheMouthpiece