Sudden

A sudden knock,
a sudden scare
a sudden noise,
but no one’s there.

A sudden noise,
a sudden spark,
a sudden fall,
a sudden dark.

A sudden tear,
one last breath,
a sudden end,
a sudden death.

 

This is a poem I wrote in high school. While I was never suicidal myself, I often sympathized with those that might be. Still, to this day, I mourn for those that find life to be so hopeless that they would take their own life. This is why I share this poem.

Matt Norman

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The Throne Room

Sometimes when I pray I like to close my eyes
and imagine that I’m seeing the throne room of God.
I close my eyes and, without speaking a word a picture begins to appear.
Soon it’s like I’m there and I’m no longer here.
There before me are two giant doors,
not to keep me out, but to welcome me in.
I want them to open, I want to go through,
But I cannot forget, my past sin.
Without a word and without a sound,
these doors begin to move.
I feel like I should speak, I feel like I should prove
that this Holy place is were I belong,
that all the things I had to do,
I know I have done.
As if I could earn my way into heaven,
But man was I wrong.
That’s when I’m reminded, deep within my soul
that I can never be that good.
But, only through the blood of Christ,
when in my place He stood.
Looking up again I see the doors are open wide.
from what is waiting on the other side,
I know I can not hide.
Beyond the doors is a light
at the same blinding,
and somehow comforting.
I blink my eyes so they can adjust,
to see what lies ahead a I simply must.
The light permeates everything,
It’s source I don’t know.
But as I look around I realize, with awe,
that there is no shadow.
You see in this place the light comes from the Son,
not S. U. N. as here on earth,
but in this place the light comes from the  S. O. N.
That’s right, the Son of God,
J. E. S. U. S.
Not just some burning fire in the sky,
not that kinda sun.
I’m talking about the Holy One.
The one the Jews called Messiah,
The one born of a virgin,
The one who lived without sin,
The one who died on the cross my freedom to win.
Not just a boy born of man,
The only one, the Holy one,
God’s ONLY begotten Son.
Hesitantly I want to move,
but I’m not sure that I can.
But still I take a few cautious steps.
Somehow I know I am not in danger.
Still I can sense,
no way I could miss,
the power that comes from that throne.
Soon I am overwhelmed
by the love that awaits me within,
I want to move, but I can not go in.
Deep within I can feel the Holy Spirit,
encouraging and urging that I should continue.
“The things that Jesus did, He did for you.”
So, I take another step.
Daring to take a glance,
I see the throne and I want to dance.
I see a thrown that’s impossibly large,
rising beyond my vision.
Slowly I approach, with my head hung low.
I don’t want to move,
but simply must go.
With a respect that borders on fear I begin to raise my head.
My eyes move up the thrown trying to see the face of the one that sits upon it.
But, still I can not see that wonderful face.
Then I’m reminded that I’m not ready,
that it’s not my time.
Still my heart longs,
in His lap to climb.
In due time, in due time.
I feel the enormity of the one that is seated in front of me.
Overwhelmed I want to turn and flee.
So bad I want to turn and run,
But a voice says,
“Your place here was purchased by My Son.”
Coming as close as I dare,
I can do little more than stare.
and so I kneel
I bow my head, his love I feel
How can this place even be real
I cry to think that His great son,
my sins did kill.
I cry to think that my eternal life
man can not steal.
and so I kneel.
I bow my head and start to pray,
but how can I know the words to say.
To the one who created the universe,
but still took time to plan my birth.
What do you say to one so great,
who knows your future and holds your fate.
How do you talk to a holy God,
when the only words I have are badly flawed.
And so I kneel.
As down my face tears flow,
I loose my ability or will to go,
I open my heart and open my mouth,
but words don’t seem to be enough.
On earth I thought I was tough,
But in His presence,
I am like a child.
A child of the one true God,
that’s who I am.
A member of a heavenly clan.
Reminded of His love for me,
still I can not see,
why He would sacrifice his Son
just to see me set free.
Free from sin,
a battle I could not win.
But on the cross
that battle did end.
And so I kneel.
Matt Norman

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Poem: Mom

Nine months in the womb,

you carried me through.

Every breath that you took,

I shared with you.

 

The miracle of birth,

together all the way.

From my first breath,

still together today.

 

Motherly love,

And such a caring voice.

You knew right from wrong,

but you gave me the choice.

 

Cause of all of your love,

and all that you do.

Our love and this day,

we all give to you.

Matt Norman

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