Poetic Inkwells and More

The Chains Fell Silent The chains fell silent, one by one, Not with a clatter, but with the Son. A whisper broke the iron bars, A light split through the darkest scars. The voice of lies had held its throne, Spoke in shadows, made fear its own. But truth was stronger, fierce and bright, Unveiling love —unchained by night. Oh, weary heart, you were not lost, Though storm and sorrow named their cost. The battle raged, the years ran long, Yet faith was writing victory’s song. No voice of shame, no fear remains, The Lamb has spoken—He reclaims. Your wounds are healed, your soul set free, For Christ has won your destiny. The road behind—oh, let it fade, For grace has called, the debt is paid. You stand now whole, the past undone, Not by your strength, but by the Son. So, lift your head, let praises rise, The King has called—you are His prize. The chains fell silent, night withdrew— Oh, child of God, He carried you. This poem was sent to me as a gift and the by line will remain anony...

My Night Light                                           by Clara Mitchell 3-26-2025 Do you sleep with a night light on? A night light gives just enough glow To keep us from stumbling. What happens if your night light goes out? Never fear! A greater light shines inside of us. This light is so bright— When we let our light shine, Fear and darkness disappear. Safety surrounds us. God's Word is a lamp unto our feet And a light unto our path. (Psalm 119:105)

  Spiritual Comas by Clara Mitchell         (Mattew 9:12) I heard the Word of God go inside of me. It was like an IV drip, drip, drip. I am still awake but the sounds Of life seem far away. The Physician's notes Simply read--Induce coma. Spiritual comas do happen. My Physician has a plan. It has been years now. Same doctor at my side. The IV continues to drip new life. I am coming around now. I could hear sounds of excitement. The Physician stood smiling over my bedside. I was able to recognize Him. How long have I been gone? I was unaware of how spiritual comas exist In tandem with the Holy Trinity. It is a surprise revelation Of Revelry-- ecstatic love. The Physician left the room. The nurses left a change of clothes. By this time, I was wide awake. The walk into the hallway Is a short one. I was outside the building now. Unable to return as before. My Spiritual coma is ove...

No One Can Replace Us         by Clara Mitchell 3/24/2024 People pick me up as soon as I am published-- Or should I say born. Poetry is like a baby. The seed sneaks in unaware for a later time. Later the narrative opens into a few lines. The lines begin to make stretch marks. The realization of a new poem touches My senses to listen. The lines speak like an audition-- Pick me, take me into your study. Sit with me and ponder my words. What did my poem do to you? Read it again. The theme is bursting through. I care less over a few stretch marks. The life of this poem must find its new home. The delivery is now done. Published and in circulation. I will leave it with the editors. Someone will adopt this work of thoughts. It is like a rush of adrenaline The contractions are closer now. Which editor will foster this newborn. How many times will I submit poems like this? Sending you off to make room for new pushy poems. They will get thr...

  Bookends                     by Clara Mitchell On one end of my life, I have found a deeper place with God. The deeper place Anchors my devotions. On the other end of my life, It is like a dead end. Two bookends to my life. My life evolves into chapters. The in between times of my life Are found in these bookends. The warfare is evident. As long as I push against the dead end-- I will have the right outcome. Turning the pages of the chapters of my life, Is turning away from the old life. (II Cor 5:17) The anchor goes deep so not to drift. The changes will help me finish my life. The new creation finds its place and prevents dead ends. Simple child like faith in God's son- Jesus will wash our sins away. Repent and be made whole while there is time- Step out of the in between life And enter into eternal life.

  Divine Threads by Clara Mitchell I was spiritually sewing today. I was able to thread a needle With my divine thread of inspiration. The eternal thread that keeps my poetry alive. Eternity is at work like a revelation. Whatever God gives has this promise. "The things which are not seen are eternal" "the things which are seen are temporal." (II Corinthians 4:18) This eternal thread of inspiration gives life. Each idea sown is born anew, (John 3:3) To open hearts and faith, Into prayer and supplications. While tying a knot in this new thread, I ask God about a new poem. I see that the end is already in process. The knot tells me that it will all tie together. (Romans 8:28) Each poem like a quilt of ideas. Each idea spreading across poetry lines. I stitch the words within the stanzas of thread. Until I feel the knot form that signals the end ahead...