A Testimony…in Reflection

December 15, 2009 by The Lyricist

As a writer I feel that I am a pianist at his keyboard perfecting every letter and every phrase into its own entity. I become one with my position and one with my inner calling. However, I am finding it difficult to express hindered emotions. I cannot grasp the depths behind, in front of and around us. But today and for a past many days, I have concluded that victim is what we shall plead no more. At our tables of life why do we not come in abundance? Why do we fall short of our catering? Why do we allow anyone to come to sit at our crisped, precisely laid linens? And to eat from our finest of silver wear? Do we not value ourselves as much? Have we come to “settle” for the water stains that have specked our lives and the half prepared banquet of our time? I say let us not delve into the black hole of societies mold. Lo and behold our utopias are there, our heavens do exist and there is a greater force holding out its hand to us. Again I say, let us not settle.

I feel that too often we are putting forth effort into situations, selves and recipients of packages unworthy. We exert an entire envelope of energy skill and poise into someone or something that does not deliver back to us a tenth of what we put into it. Yes we are conditioned to believe that “it is better to give than to receive” but we should be able to collect on a good deed or a saving grace in order to continue to pour out in wealth to someone else. Why should we let such amazing bits of loyalty and gratitude slip through the cracks? Personally I do not wish to remain stagnant in the gifts I have been given to set forth upon this place. I will not “go gently into [this] goodnight” (Dylan Thomas) but I will force my way through and be loud with the fury inside me to be a better stronger and more apparent leader in the eyes of many. For I am human and I struggle, I pain, I grieve, I take notice I re-evaluate, I repent, I give thanks, I take responsibility, I take note, I observe, I am genuine, I am happy, I have courage, and I have weaknesses, ultimately I stumble and as God knows I fall. But the key is getting back up when all is said and done.

So, who is there to reach out to? Who is there to take care and to appoint as the bringer of all things possible? Why is it easy for us to confide in those that are not our third and forth skins? Do we keep those people around as shields instead of warriors equipped to help us through our battles? “Beware of strangers” as we are told, but instead we invite them with a wave of a hand or an ear to listen, a shoulder to cry on or a pedestal in which to stand. We worship them like idols and give in return nothing of the foundations that have brought us to our highest of strengths. Why I ask do they deserve and receive all the credit? We allow strangers, in the form of men and women, whether they be significant others or a passerby, a witness or a mutual friend, a co-worker or the waitress, the neighbor or the lady behind the counter at the corner store, to extract a piece of our being. Why is it that they know us more than we know ourselves or more than the people in which we have chosen for that sole purpose: to confide?

Now I reason, am I just a wind passing through without a cause? Have you stopped me on my journey to hold me there for your comfort? When really I am just a buffer? Present when no one else is around, when times are too tough to comprehend, when you need to phone a friend? When your life lines have run out when your “this-close” to the million dollars? And when the bell rings I am released, because I am no longer needed in your presence. “Til next time folks” “Tune in next week” “After these short messages” “When the going gets tough” and in the mean time, those who have not helped, those who have been in hiding get the pats on the backs the partial reward the full attention and the flooding of compliments most definitely sited upon deaf ears.

We have become robotic in letting strangers in before family and even friends. Mud filled shoes have not been removed and still they walk, to some extent uninvited, and yet we close the door behind them and on the ones who have been there claiming that our dwelling places (our hearts and our souls) are filled to the brim, to capacity, to fire hazard regulations for them. But ask yourself who is more likely to help you burn? To cause you to suffer? To create regret turmoil and heartache?

I can honestly say that my relations with others do not plague my being any longer or any further than I allow them to. I have taken back my control. Yes the control I let slip past my grasp without realization that set fuel to the flame of power that was once cast over me. I am strong in that I might say I am weak for the purposes of growth and understanding, not only for myself but for those people who have inflicted my life with pain guilt and victimization. I no longer answer questions that I know you do not wish to be answered, I do not invest my goods in false advertisements, and I do not succumb to the scruples that are spewed from blasphemous corners of a being not on my level. For I have found “the greatest love of all” and it is “inside of me” (Whitney Houston), it has been, it is, and will be.


My power and my strength, my control and my propriety come from the purest of places. All my life I have been looking to bridge the gap; The gap that separated me from the world and the heavens, from me myself and I, from the little girl to the women, from the past to the present and in due course to my future. And a midst the noise and chaos of the world set in place around me I can finally hear the silence of self I had been seeking…without doubt in my heart I can separate the stations and diffuse the static and bring it back to the core basis of my reality in self. Today I ask myself “when will my reflection show who I am inside?” (Christina Aguilera) and I, with shoulders broad and a chest held high, face turned upward and features smiling with a slight squint from the sun, proclaim the joy that was set forth with my name.


“I sing because I am happy and I sing because I am free. HIS eye is on the sparrow, and I know he watches over me”

(-His Eye Is On the Sparrow by Lauren Hill)

Thus, I write because I have wisdom and I write because I have love, I write because I have voice and I write because I have proof. I write because I thirst and I write because I hunger. I write because I have truth and I write because I have choice. I write because I have a gift and I write because I have passion. I write because I have a package and I write because I must deliver. And finally I write because “I am me right here in the flesh and I write because I am not of this world, I am something else. I am something lived and I am something felt” (-Novel)

No matter who we are or where we come from, a branch from our family trees let us not break ourselves off from our roots. Let us be the repair men and women of our generation. Let us not fall short any longer. Taking back the power we shall fill, repair, and make void the negatives of this relation we have accepted of the world we take so much pride in; only to cover our faces in embarrassment and detach ourselves from when the going gets tough, but let us not “get going” for we are hard-hitting and instead of running in the opposite direction turn around and run head on with Godspeed. We should not each have individual positions to be thrust into the battle field at a moment’s notice. We should be warriors of the same creed trudging ahead with the same end result in mind regardless of where our origins have sprouted.

Step outside of your camouflage and be heard seen and recognized, for this battle of ours is not ours to tackle alone, “Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few.” Mathew 9:37, for HIS eye is on the sparrow and HE watches over us and therefore we must not falter in our follow through.

 I was at a very different time in my life when this blog was written. I was 25 yrs old (6 years ago) and upon looking at the post I thought to myself maybe I should take this and re-post it on my new blog. I hesitated then because I was like its irrelevant to the here and now and what would I or my readers benefit from an old ancient post? So I read it anyway because I’ve always taken pleasure in reading my own work over and over because I felt that I got something new out of it every time I took on the challenge of reading it for the second and third time! As well it is how I prefer my readers to take part in my work: as an abstract piece of art that they can shape mold and tailor to what they are going through. Well let me tell you I BLEW MYSELF AWAY!! I was more than impressed with myself. Now this post is from a while back but the relevancy that it holds right at this moment is insane! Like I predicted in the past that I would need to find this exact post somehow here in the future.

Don’t underestimate what you do today having an impact on someone, or yourself in the future. Start fresh AGAIN today on the things you left behind or forgot about. Its never too late and who knows who you could inspire! Dust off that piano and test a few notes again, attempt grandmas recipe one more time and you never know this just might be it, call that old friend you thought was forever lost or pick up that pen (or keyboard) and lose yourself once more.

It is our possibility to create something of ourselves and our lives so get out there y’all!

  • The Lyricist is my Pen Name

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