The Poetry Marathon

A Little Rest

Life is delicate but

you can’t be too careful

work diligently, and

take comfort in that which

you do well

yes, take comfort in

your relative closeness to perfection

in that which you do

for, to take comfort, and to enjoy the repose of

your labor

is not even assured

so, if you have the good fortune of that

tiny vanity, remember,

that too is

a gift of God.

Of Tongues and Praise

Fifty tongues

From fifty states

Tongues and tongues

From every race

Nations, tribes, and tongues

Of every case

The health of these tongues

We seek to raise

That they might, with healthy tongues,

Sing our Redeemer’s praise

Mercy –Show Mercy from Within

Mercy, let it flow from you

Let it flow from within

Deal mercifully with me, and with you –

Indeed, with them, and with us

Forget not goodness and tender mercy

Do you know any that couldn’t use some mercy?

If you be rich, and so think

That, “This mercy thing –not a need for it

Money can take care of it, whatever I need”

Wait till the unwanted strike

(and they strike, just when is what’s unknown)

And money doesn’t smile with you, e’en though you may have it

The mercy you’ll seek with bitter tears

Cannot be purchased with your golden pocket

Have mercy, show mercy, it’s an investment for you

Power –do you know any with power till the end?

There’s none in all the children of Adam and Eve

It’s for a season and a time

It soon fades even before you fade

Let it not intoxicate; it’s only a guest, it’ll leave

Ask those who’ve had it massively before

Have mercy, you’ll need mercy, so give it,  you’ll be glad you do

Invisibles

No, we do not walk alone

There are invisibles walking with us

Friends or foes, they’re there —they really are

When you’re spared from the jaws of death

You’re only a hairline from its snap

And the snare fails to have you trapped

When you fail to show up for a flight

The flight you’ve spent days waiting for.

You may or may not be sick

Yet you miss the flight, not by your own choice

You stress until you hear the demise of the quick machine

When you’re home and have no reason

Or intension to be out

Until you find a reason to drive around

Or pick from the store that which you really need not

And it becomes “Had I known I would have stayed still this day”

How do you go from saying farewell to a loved one

And therein find the one to soothe your pain

Coincidence –no, no, think again

As sure as God’s fresh air keeps us breathing and moving

Invisibles are with us on both sides of the aisle

Her Wedding Day

Dressed in a smooth satin

And a kiara cum Marry Slessor hybrid headgear

With a train sparingly laced with flower throws

She walked up beside her father

In steps delicate and slow.

It was her wedding day

When earlier it shone, it was sunshine bright

When later it rained, it was blessed showers

Spirits were high, true joy flowed

There was honey in the rock

There was flowered hope.

It was a true-joy filled day

On this

Her Wedding Day

A Song of Hope

But the night of tears

Shall give way soon enough

To a morning that’s filled

With a shout of triumph

And with a song of joy

For, lo, we have waited for thee

O sound of joy that

Makes tomorrow perfect

Like the countenance of a bride on

Her wedding day

For our tambourines and strings

Have long been tuned

And now are quiet, patient, waiting for thee

To declare jubilee at the dawn of joy

 In the Valley

My soul, my long-divided soul

Seeking solace, tossed

In life’s raging tide

Wondering what your identity may be

Wondering through hostile grounds

Searching for the place of rest

Will you rest, my soul?

Can you? Should you?

Then my soul says,

“To rest I seek

But not at any cost

For that would not be rest.

Tired and weary I am

And I would gladly rest

If, in my tiredness I could smile,

If, in my weariness I could laugh,

If, when I shed tears, they be of joy and relief.

“But such is not my lot as yet

And so, to rest is but foreign to me –

not in knowledge

but in living

“And now, I must hurry to find my rest

So, when my strength fails to aid my sprint

I’ll trot;

When to trot I no longer can

I’ll walk;

And, when to walk is beyond my strength

I’ll limp and I’ll crawl –perhaps one day, one beautiful day, I say

I’ll rest and smile

This Life

Troubled but not in despair

Puzzled but not in confusion

For the Lord is always my desire

And He’ll care for my every portion

Tempted but not in subjection

Tossed around but keeping the light

Jesus will give me direction

And, through all, I shall come out bright

Jesus, my all in all

Harken to my gentle call

And when from the storm I’m raised

My Savior shall still be praised

Broken Wings

With Earth not nearly enough

to rescue me from this failing fate

I think

of my childhood dreams to soar

but now feel as though

with broken wings I tread

Broken wings are painful, you know

painful like a dream deferred

–painful, O Lord, very painful

But my wings aren’t clipped –only broken

For, when heaven and earth embrace

and I, on earth, flutter still,

I will be caught in heaven’s arms

and have healing infused and strength renewed

Then my once broken wings

will soar will still on earth

and through the heaven proceed

soaring through a in beautiful

all the way to my journey’s end

   Times, Seasons and Exceptions

The wise and ultra-wealthy man has written:

“To every thing there is a season

And a time to every purpose under the heaven”

And true it is, true as can be

But exceptions will always be

For He who made time has kept the power

To make exceptions

To the rules of season, of time, and of events

“Exceptions”, you say?

Ah, exceptions indeed

Shall I talk of Abraham, and of Sarah,

Of Hannah, or of Ruth

Of the Sun held in its place

And of more.

While he rules exist

Your time is not past, believe.