Pitifully exhausted I was
In purpose’s pursuit
Past peril, plunging into pleasure..
Participating in preponderance of pain;
Exasperated and exhausted.
Where can purpose be found?
The pit says it is not among my portions..
Popularity says, ‘only the pitch of it I proclaim,
But the real thing I have not realized.
Where, then can purpose be found?
‘only the tail of it I have seen,
But the tale of it I have only heard’..
Whence can it be witnessed,
Will the whims of waves
And the wiles of wannabes
Wield its wonder?
Can the carousals of careless company
Or the caresses of carefree consorts
Compare to the crux
Of its compelling promise,
Or the crucible of its process?
Purpose is promise.
It is promise made alive,
Promise brought to life..
Promise found in life.
But where can life be found,
The heart says, ‘ the beat of it
Only I have heard,
The vein says, the transport of it
Only I portend.
And the brain says,
The thought of it only, I have touched.
The wisdom of the magi,
Is in obedience to this;
To forsake the king
And follow the child..
For unto us a child is born,
And now is he our king.
From enmity we are torn,
And to his praises sing..
For from the deadness of dead man’s tomb
Will be born children of purpose’s womb.
This truth always has been,
We move in him, live and have our being
Our best interest only can compound
When truly we are lost and found.
And when in fire we are refined,
Through glass we will see…
Our purpose redefined.
Written by Chibuzo