Gypsy

I live the life of a Gypsy

And they ask me where I do it now.

I say, Where I always have;

In the palm of God's hand.

I was born there and never left-

It's He who moves.

J. P. Richardson

Wellspring

Written by J. P. Richardson-Smith

All the broken people wait

At the pool that heals.

If you've been shattered,

Battered,

Bruised;

You know how waiting feels.

I see the starving stomachs-

The sightless,

Filmy eyes...

I see the limping legs,

And fragile, feeble minds.

I've lain here by the water

For almost thirty years.

My kind are all passed by

But He collects our tears.

Now the pool has started stirring

And I do not feel alone

When my deaf ears hear

A voice so clear

Inviting me back home.

So I leave my rotting shell behind

To find

I'm finally free

Of the curse of sin

And all the pain

That's caused by disease.

Baptized fully, head to toe

The scales from my eyes fall.

If the only thing I've ever seen

Is He;

I've seen it all.

Yes, baptized fully, head to toe

The scales from my eyes fell...

He said my mission is complete and

I have finished well.

The Cure

For anyone who has ever suffered.

Written by Joy Pauline Richardson

4/26/20

I try to focus the cross

That Bore my shame for me.

Instead I lean on the headsman's block

And beg for dreamless sleep.

I throw myself on the guillotine,

I barely bat an eye.

Forgo every ounce of truth I know,

Adopt the darkest lie.

I tie the noose around my neck,

I say that it is done.

I've given up on me although

The war was ages won.

The war was won so long ago

My flesh cannot recall.

I'm blinded by my misery,

Forget He felt it all.

He felt it all, He had a choice,

He chose to slay his son.

He came to Undermine the doubt

He came to Overcome.

He came to overcome the grave

And all the towers that we've made,

The wisdom we've contrived.

To RIP the veil and tip the scales

In favor of our lives.

In favor of my life He came

He did not spare Himself the pain

He did not spare one bone.

He was crushed in every place

To place me in His Home.

He was crushed in every place,

Endured for me alone.

Forsaken and betrayed He died

My foolish heart atoned.

I am coming home to Him

I'm well upon my way

But not until the book is filled

And it's not done today.

It's not done today

And not until He speaks the word.

I suffer but no matter what

I Know That I Am Cured.