He looks into my soul
sees all there is, so
much more than I know, all
to read is His, He
who sees me,
He who knows me,
He who loves me,
for no reason but I am His own.
I wish what He sees in
me I could believe in
but I just can’t find
it so I want Him to show
it to me
who He sees,
me who He knows,
me who He loves,
for no reason but I am His own.
Even with all my fail-
ings, blemishes, prob-
lems, He cares and
wants to protect me,
save me
who He sees,
me who He knows,
me who He loves,
for no reason but I am His own.
Background:
This poem, written in early high school, was very rhythms-focused. I remember feeling the syllables, stressed and unstressed, in my mind as I wrote the words, even if I didn’t know terms for types of syllables yet. It felt like the heartbeat of the piece.
As I read it now, I think that some of the placements of the words (in terms of line breaks) don’t quite fit that established rhythm, but I wanted to record the poem as I have it written down from back then. I keep finding this hybrid experience - of feeling disjointed from some rhythms and still very much in alignment with other rhythms - as I read through my younger self’s writing experiments. I mean this literally, like the rhythms in this poem, and metaphorically, the ideas and attitudes of past me compared to current me.
I am thankful for it all - retaining key aspects of who I was, ones dear to me that I don’t want to change, while still noticing differences that I reeeeally hope point to growth.
What hasn’t changed in the least is how well Jesus, the “He” talked about in the poem, knows me. He has been teaching me how to know myself and know Him better since.
I hope you are letting Him teach you the same thing.
Wishing you goodness without end,
Jess