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spoken word.
In planning for a “youth run” worship service Feb. 21st, I’ve encouraged the teens to think outside the box. Perhaps to even try an avenue of worship they’ve heard of, but not actually tried themselves. In order to genuinely be able to ask that of them…I figured I should try it myself.
Years back, many of us discovered Amena Brown. Then came The Listener. Somewhere in there, a few of us came into contact with The Breax.
Many others out there I’m sure. But I wanted to give a shot at some Spoken Word.
Not quite poetry. But not quiet rap.
Here we go…
you got me.
Immature at best, with music so loudObnoxious enough to focus the crowd
To tell me one day, I’d be father of three
You’d get little more than some laughter from me…..
To tell me one day, I’d be father of three
You’d get little more than some laughter from me…..
If you knew me back then, you knew even this guy
Would someday convince a woman to marry
With a little smooth talkin, and a “pity me” stare
All I needed was the ring and the query.
But even my mate, whom I share this life with
Showed concern at my history of pets
Could this man with no sympathy for hungry felines
Change diapers and play with tea sets?
Thankfully, she saw more than most
More than any, except maybe God.
We ventured into the hood of parenting
And it’s proving far more than facade.
Now my heart is tugged. Wrangled. Grabbed and subdued.
There’s no way to explain without being.
The patter of feet, when I wake, arrive, or just quiet
Their heart in their smile I keep seeing.
Their very existence, surprisingly ME
Becoming the father I now know I was created to be
There are moments I don’t know what else to do
But respond with the same…
PEEK A BOO!!!
Becoming the father I now know I was created to be
There are moments I don’t know what else to do
But respond with the same…
PEEK A BOO!!!
words from wick 