Coming To Terms

I’m telling you, I’ve come to terms,

And what I’ve come to terms with, you can’t learn.

You see, this is no mind issue.

It deals with a different kind of tissue.

A tissue with its own beat,

And when it catches something, it’s concrete.

Yeah, this issue is with the heart,

And this issue actually deals with art.

“Trev, don’t act like you got this on lock.

We all know you’re just a jock.”

Trust me, that’s something I’ve said myself,

But it’s time to put the jock on the shelf.

You see, I’ve come to terms with my Father.

You can’t rock this boat, so don’t even bother.

“Okay Trev, what are these terms?

These terms you say are so firm.”

They are that my Father is a Creator

That loves me for worse or for better.

If you didn’t know, He is also an artist.

If you doubt, then I can give ya a list.

The moon, the fish, the air so crisp,

And yes, even Johnny with the lisp.

That’s not it, you see.

This God I call Father, created me.

He didn’t make me a man in bondage,

But a free man that looks in the mirror and see His image.

What is the thing that makes me so free?

Well… I finally realized I’m not a random fish in the sea.

Think about a God that sees so much potential,

That He creates you with so much detail that anyone else would need a stencil.

“Okay, okay… Get to the point.”

Its okay, once it sets in, it won’t disappoint.

You see, I’m in His image and He is creative,

And the more I think about it, the more I get proactive.

Writing, music, or whatever it is.

Acting like my Father just brings me such bliss.

If you aren’t as excited as I, then I’m sorry.

It will come soon, don’t you worry.

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