To be called ..
~ Grandma is a Honor ~
I have been blessed with 4 Grandchildren
~ one lays in Heaven " Kaleb " He is God's Angel ~
~ His twin brother he will always watch over , and be in his soul~
For he loved his Brother so much in the womb ,
he chose Heaven which gave life to his twin
~ I feel his spirit when I see the other Grandson ~
Time passed another gift to see
we are " Mickes" and Loved
Our Dad held the title in Baseball
~ that's how we roll ~
those children are Grandmas hero's
The Irish they love big and Family is everything
The brothers will protect the beautiful sister
~ as many lads will be calling ~
Every time my Grandson hits a home run
There will be a Angel watching proudly in the stand
It will be as if the Angel lifted him when he runs
~no one runs faster then my Grandson~
either baseball or Art ~ you shall find your gift given
These children have been blessed~
~ a beauty to hard to describe
If you think not ~~ Take a look at the Mom
That girl can stop Traffic
after raising three and still~
"Inspired by the gift and loss of Grandchildren "
May our precious " Kaleb " softly rest where Angels only Dwell
Money money, ringing in your tills,
Calling us to worship,
The hundred dollar bills.
Bend our knees in wonder,
Bow our heads in awe,
At the power of the liar,
Who now controls us all.
From the darkest deep caverns,
To the stars in the sky,
From the infinite universe,
To the strangers passing by.
From your inner most conviction,
To your laughing in the night,
From everything you 're seeing,
To everything out of sight.
The new God has risen,
To claim the holy throne,
The one that we have emptied,
Our hearts all cold as stone.
The throne that we have emptied,
We killed the rightful king,
Sold his crown an sceptre,
Pawned his sacred ring.
Raised his bleeding body,
Up on that bloody hill,
The silent lamb still bleeding,
As the money fills your tills.
Who can hear, the mornings call?
The dead dove's body, as it des fall.
Who can see through, the dead man's eyes?
As the burning sun, falls from the skies.
What once was new, has now become old,
What once was alive, has now become cold,
What you believed, was worth a lot,
Is burnt to ashes, in the melting pot.
Let's start again, I hear them say,
Let's start again, another day,
Let's make again, what we made before,
Spill more blood, on the kitchen floor,
Lift the cross, up on the hill,
Load the guns, to fight and kill.
Fight and slaughter, till there's non one left,
Till your mind is empty, your heart is deaf,
You thought that, I was a soldier too,
You thought that I said, I love you,
But I tell you now, and I tell it true,
The angles of heaven, and the angels of hell,
Are riding now, to the ring of deaths bell.
What you thought, was silver and gold,
Are ashes and dust, on the open road,
What you knew was good, what you knew was true,
The hot sun has dried, like the morning dew,
The very memory, of hope and despair,
Is lost in the hole, of your soul laid bare.
The empty hole, behind the clouds,
The music and the laughing crowds,
Are dead and gone, have faded away,
As a new sun rises, on a bright new day,
I tell you now, and I tell you true,
As the hammer of me hits the anvil of you
Scattered on the ground,
Out of their element.
Deprived of its origin.
Clarity no longer visible.
In the purest snow,
Frozen to the core.
Stripped away so rash.
Trampled into dust.
Stolen without knowledge.
Endless death fighting to prevail.
Noah’s ark was real not a fiction
It had a door to escape God’s affliction
Noah delivered a warning message
But the folks mock their own presage
Men grew in sin and matured in transgression
And ignored Noah’s loving confession
The Door stood open a long time
Until time begin to climb
The Lord finally shut the Door
And the rain begin to pour
120 years of grace finally came to a halt
God administered judgment by default
The Door was a glorious type of Christ
He was the Lamb of God who was price
Jesus said “I am the Door of the sheep”
He is the only Door of that Great ship
Jesus is our Door of salvation
Wherein we enter and float as new creation
Behold He stands at your door this day and knock
Let Him in, you’ll find pasture as a partaker of His Holy flock
Then said Jesus unto them again, Verily, verily, I say unto you, I am the door of the sheep- John 10:7
a leaf fallen...
a leaf fallen to the ground cannot be placed back upon the branches of the tree...
a leaf fallen is separated from the nourishment of the trunk or the roots...
a leaf fallen can never be what it once was as it dries up and lies separated from its main source of energy...
its edges curled and the moisture being drawn like water from a well...
a leaf fallen is tossed and turned and blows with no direction from the wind...
it has no control over its destination...
it lies lifeless and abandoned, crunchy, and beneath the feet of the enemy...
a leaf fallen...
My work is over time to head on home
Made lots of money trading stocks on-line
I told my secretary she could leave
Askance my traders quid pro quo was fine
I entered elevator floor nine-teen
Pushed ground floor button number one then saw
Another door to lift laid opposite
Impossible, turned ready to withdraw
The Devil's Minion
Unable to escape the way I came
The capsule doors on other side agaze
Was drawn out by a large, dark silhouette
Inside a narthex three closed doors ablaze
I listened to malefic force within
Effulgent scuttles have distracted me
With ears submitting to an evil force
On knees established I forlornly see
The devil's minion utters chilling words
“You worldly man you face deserving death”
“You will be given one last stabbing choice”
“You get to choose a door with your last breath”
If there's a god I pray you save my soul
The dark and eldritch spirit yield a laugh
He said “each door is named must pick one now”
“Not fair” I said, he showed me golden calf
Door number one depicted the word ME
Door number two was written the word YOU
Door number three aglow with the word HIM
“What in the hell am I supposed to do ?
I looked at evil spirit's saber drawn
With my last breath I ran to a new dawn
In life, some would say
I lacked no good thing,
I was loved and healthy,
Young and nice-looking.
Yet my soul was parched,
It was cracked, dry dirt,
A candle with no spark,
An eclipse of the earth.
Then a voice caused me to kneel,
An unseen tongue let loose,
"God is real and
the Bible is truth."
Lots has happened since
God took me by the hand
But I still remember when
My faith in God began.
(A non-fiction poem written for Gail Angel Doyle's "Finding God" contest.)
The Rose innocent white, soft pink, yellows
colors touch your soul vibrant red to amethyst
enhances beauty yet a thorn awaits to break skin
as life does piercing your heart with a thin pin.
My life has shed drops of blood through each petal
as if in return for the love and beauty you feel
hence pain underneath patiently waits the bloodletting ~
The rose symbolizes love yet vulnerable to hold
for when you open your heart it can be left bleeding
The best of surgeons can not beat your heart
It is the inner faith and God himself whom gives strength
whispers in your ear you shall live you will exist
your life meaningful as the water and sun to the rose
For I am your God your existence is not over yet .
You must Live ~You must Bloom
When meanings have been broken,
When your cross has been uncrossed,
When the reasons that you gave me,
In the labyrinth have been lost.
When your house has been emptied,
When your bedroom is swept clean,
I will come and wake you,
From your long and endless dream.
more at http://labyrinthoflies.com
I’m my own worst enemy
Reality seems to challenge my sanity
I’m in a state of constant contradiction
I’m Batman, Robin Gotham city.
Can’t define myself, I’m meaningless by definition.
I’m my own worst enemy
I have everything I want except what I need
I’m not bias; I care about the colour of your creed
On Ramadan my sins I feed to fast on Eid
I’m a Christian walking with an evil entity.
I’m in a state of contradiction
Balanced yet unbalanced; I’m the problem and solution
I’m a smoker complaining about pollution
Can you see the irony in my conclusion?
I can concentrate
Can’t pocket-pay attention
I have eyes to see
The world perceives for me
I have a brain to think what my mouth could question
My heart fears to mention.
If my actions don’t make sense to you count me in
Sometimes you have to lose to win
A good man’s soul can be lost and never found
An evil heart can be love-bound.
Once you perceive the futility in turning a blind eye
You could be
The change you want to see
The change you want to be.
Like joyous green of summer, my heart is singing filled
With you, while winter`s white is witness of good willed;
The glass works and the hot red wine spreading light:
Comforting carols “Silent Night” or “Brad Frumos”.
Comforting thoughts of good like good miners,
And cakes a lot with names of saints and sinners
Looking the heart of sweet cherries strudel under the sight
Of mother humming “Silent Night” or “Brad Frumos”.
Smoldering embers and feeling like hot chocolate
With scent of incense offered to every Christian mate
Under the new temptation of good and hope of right
Teaching of church on “Silent Night”,under “Brad Frumos”
The sacrifice of the pig, a ritual Symphony in red,
At the other side of modal logic, with wine and bread
And slaughtered pig and soured soups that might
Be prepared and savored on "Silent Night" ,near “Brad Frumos”
The aromatic smoke ascending, and dancing heavenly
Like our attempt to preserve and conserve not only
The clay and flash creature but also the inner light
And so many candles to see the Light on “Silent Night”...
The silent bell rings in the night,
Calling the devils to kneel to the light,
What once was, becomes no more,
As the light breaks through the open door.
What you think and what you feel,
What you saw and thought was real,
Is now only dust on the road,
The desolate remains of your ancient abode.
The new light is rising on the hill,
The new song is singing down in the well,
The new souls are dreaming of your face,
The new hearts are beating at you pace.
The old ideas and reasons you gave,
Are buried in the tomb and in the grave,
The rotting bone and flesh are gone,
In the morning dew, in the morning sun.
The light shines through the open door,
Casts no shadow on the old dirty floor,
The ancient laws of reason and might,
Crumble to dust in the morning light.
What once was real and certain as rock,
Is now the dream the baby forgot,
The new light coming to wake you my love,
The silent lamb and the flying dove.
more of my poems at :
I wish I were empty,
I could easily be filled with that which is from God.
Yet I have been filled with the things of this world.
Pour out my Self,
fill me with the Spirit,
the good gifts from God.
I am but a vessel,
that which enter me is that of which I am full.
I must fill myself with that which is from God,
I must surround myself with Him,
so He is that of which I am full.
Fill me up Lord.
For when I am full of You,
....of Your Love,
....of Your Word,
that is who I will be
Fill me with Your Love Lord.
I will travel through this world,
I will not be swayed by worldly temptations.
The more of You that lives in me
the more of You there is to fill this world.
Use my body as Your Vessel
to bring the world to You
....to Your Glory
....to Your Grace
....to Your Mercy
....and Your Love.
Fill me, Lord, with Your Great Love.
Like the seraphs whose wings unfold,
Christ's light and glory goes not untold;
as the love of his humble grace
moves inside me all time and space,
as the planets orbit heaven's sun
and encircle it one by one--
so, too, am I caught in his sway,
beloved of him from day to day.
Through hosts of astral dimension
God's angels fix their attention
with expectancy and burning pause
amidst the universe's First Cause.
He, the one true Incarnation
that begets cosmic causation,
resolves the Infinite Regress
from the pre-Socratics' egress
with his omniscient wisdom
and the archives of his kingdom
where all can come and read and know
what miracles he'll yet bestow.
is an old covered bridge
two people embark on together
taking shelter with promises of forever
but darkness ensues and threatens their endeavor
will creaky planks give way and collapse?
in time the darkness will pass
love can last.
Lord, I don't understand.
Maybe I never did.
The destination of the path seemed so grand,
yet now it looks horrid!
The dragon You've placed, mine to fight
still breathes fire and brimstone in my neck,
but I'm armoured with incapability to smite
and the cobblestones You paved lead to this wreck.
I dreamt of the moon,
but couldn't reach the stars,
so I drifted into the sun and soon
I would be burnt with scars.
Why shroud my mind with dreams of peace at daylight's bend,
yet shred it with horrors at night?
Why let me pursue a rainbow when
there never was an end?
The past is bathed in murky waters
and clothed in miry clay.
Now the future looks no better
and mere words can't express what I wish to say.
Lord, here I lay at Your mercy,
angry and heartbroken.
You don't make mistakes and You set free.
Please, I beg be my beacon!
Loose the shackles,
break the chains
that I may serve You again.
Show me the true way You planned,
for I have reached the end of this one.
It's the third verse,
I got the urge to purge
All the curt words I've splurged,
I've submerged in sin,
I'll go to church repent,
Then go curse again,
Lets reverse this trend
We nurse tolerance,
When it might offend,
If I white wash my fence,
So try to not get tense,
When I do not defend,
Those who chose to be dense
And not use their two cents,
To show kids the reverence,
For the pledge of allegiance.
I do not know?
my love blossoms amidst the thunder
across the oceans and the beyond the seas
my love reaches out and touches
the moments of bliss as the loneliness flees
my love is simple
with profound feelings of yearning desire
my love rages within
the furnace of this aching heart's unquenchable fire
my love basks in the warmth of the knowledge
that in the spring it takes root and it will flower
my love breathes in the light fragrance
of her hair after her warm and delicate shower
my love remembers drowning in her eyes
of those ethereal moments frozen forever more
my love recalls the fleeting ticking of the clock
each minute apart stabbing at my very core
my love she knows I need her so
for she needs me just as much
my love she sprinkles light flourishes of her sensual touch
as my love for her continues to ceaselessly grow
my love reaches down into the crevasses of my of being
my love for her is held onto deep inside
for in the coming of the cold ache of seperation
my love settles between the folds of her heart, for 'tis there that my love for will reside
my love like an eternal dream caresses me in wakefulness and in sleep
and that is the feeling that I shall cherish
a feeling of love that has settled in me
a feeling so pure and a feeling so very deep...
I do not know?
The Tragedy of the Banished Revolutionaries.
Epochs apart, yet,
bound by conscience,
Enduring the whispers of time,
through creeds professed,
and a million sins confessed.
of these banished revolutionaries,
is ceremonially muted by ritual,
and gleefully crushed under,
that serve Religion Inc.
"And the meek shall inherit the earth",
an incendiary thought,
for the pie in the sky that must be sought.
The tragedy of the banished revolutionaries,
for us to hear,
through the din of the cacophony of prayer.
The tragedy of the banished revolutionaries,
each day that we choose,
to shun the meek,
and mouth conscience-salving prayers,
for yet more silver,
and yet more silk.
Sometimes there is silence,
Sometimes there are words,
Sometimes there is meaning,
Sometimes it's absurd.
Sometimes you are near me,
Sometimes you are far,
Sometimes there is darkness,
Sometimes guided by a star.
Sometimes we are up and
Sometimes we are down,
Sometimes we are slaves,
That wear a holy crown.
Sometimes we are arrogant,
Sometimes we are proud,
Sometimes we are someone,
Lost in the faceless crowd.
Sometimes we are rich and
Sometimes we are poor,
Sometimes we are angels,
Scratching at the door.
Sometimes I'm living and
Sometimes I am dead,
Sometimes there is no thoughts
Turning in my head.
Sometimes looking forwards,
Sometimes looking back,
The circle still unbroken,
The train still on the track.
Sometimes we are caught and
Sometimes we are free,
But we always come back praying,
Under this olive tree.
more at http://labyrinthoflies.com
Thought are only feelings too,
Thoughts that I think so often of you.
Feelings are my sensations within,
The mud and the rubbish,
The diamond ring.
Sensations are the messages you send to me,
A sword, a cross, an olive tree.
So many images flash through my mind,
So many feelings to which I am blind.
So many thoughts that I never dare think,
Like old dirty dishes in the kitchen sink.
Hidden away beneath the shit,
The mud the blood and the rest of it.
Thoughts and feelings lost in the wind,
What really mattered is hidden within.
Within the noise, the laughing crowds,
Between the lines of a song sang loud.
A whispered caress, a gentle breeze,
A butterfly's wing, down on my knees.
Beneath the thoughts, behind the scene,
Under the feelings and what has never been.
Though the holes in time and space,
What is always forgotten, your long lost face.
Shining brightly for all to see,
It was never you, it was always me.
Always me down in this pit,
Thinking and fighting to make sense of it.
Always me blocking the way,
Blocking the door to keep out the day.
Always me who had the last word,
Propping up, the blind and absurd.
Always me with something to say,
Thinking and feeling my life away.
Love is a seed
When it is planted in fertile soil it grows
When it is planted amongst thorns and thistle it is choked out
It cannot flourish when the enemy tries to choke it
It cannot flourish when the vultures come to pick over it
Love is a seed
Have you ever planted a seed of love?
Have you ever watched another one’s grow?
It is a most spectacular plant ever so silently growing from its encasement
Once the outer shell of the seed softens the seedling emerges
It sneaks up through the soil to grasp the light with its tender leaves
It reaches up through the fertile soil and seeks nourishment and light
The sun photosynthesizes its energy upon it
Have you ever seen a weed?
Have you ever seen a weed as it suffocates the harvest?
As it strangles out all the healthy plants that are meant for food?
Have you ever got on your knees to pray and pull spiritual weeds?
All the while knowing that the weed pulling is up to you the gardener?
This is a metaphor
This is a poem
Its basis is solely from the Words of Our Savior Jesus
In order for seeds of love to grow we must plan for the harvest
In order for seeds to grow we must be on our knees in prayer
Come and sit at the feet of our Savior and pull some spiritual weeds today!
Your harvest will be bountiful and it will shine amongst the best gardens in the world!
(1 Kings 8: 27)
I Would Build YOU Seven Pillars
Made of Pearls of Such Dimension- Prized
I Would Build YOU Ten Giant Columns
Made of Pure Crystals Up To The Skies
And On That Holy Edifice
of 400 Cubits Elevated To Size
I Would Build YOU A Thunder-Temple
A Thousand Stories High
This Would Be My Metaphysical Monument To JAH ...
And Inside The Thunder-Temple
I Would Build A Lightning-Fire
It Would Burn A Flame of Love So Hot & Bright
That Lasts Forever & Never Die
I Would Place YOUR Name On A Pedestal Throne
of Precious Gems - No One Could Pry
Of Such Height & Depth & Length
& Everlasting Arms Wide
This Is My Metaphysical Monument To JAH ...
O' My Rock of Ages ... Because YOU Are My Strength
& My Fondest & Most Fervent of Ties
I Would Construct This On A Mountain Top
That Stands Up Past A Million Miles
It Would Touch The Moon In Reflection
And The Stars Would Be Inspired
and Eclipse Every Man-Made Structure
& Orbit In YOUR Eyes
This Is My Metaphysical Monument To JAH ...
I Would Fill The Air With Perfumed Prayer
Celestial, Sparkled-Incense Would Rise
I Would Fill The Space With Music
& Exalt HALLELUJAH In Chimes!
I Would Bow Down In YOUR Beauteous Presence
In The Aisles & Among All Tribes
& Exult In The Awesome Atmosphere
of YOUR Essence So Wise
... In My Metaphysical Monument To JAH ...
I Would Fill It With All YOUR Worshipers
& All YOUR Wonders & Praise Realized
& We'd Sing My Metaphysical Monument
In Paradise ... To JAH !
This Is My Metaphysical Monument
And Yes, This Vision Is Heaven-Sent
Spirit-Height & Depth & Width & Length
In My Whole-Soul, Solar-Sacrament
& My Devotion's Endless Measurements
Built From A Bonafide & Blessed Blueprint
Constructed Thru Carpenter's Consent
& With The Master-Worker's Instruments
It Will Tower-Up In Testament !
So All Will Know - Everywhere I Went
It's The Metaphysical Monument
My HalleluJah - Horizon-Event!
... My Metaphysical Monument ... To JAH
Written & Copyrighted ©: 9/27/2013
by: MoonBee Canady
In a room filled with a solitary red hue
The bourgeois spins a wheel
With no destination, nor need
She will spin until her brittle Hands bleed
Just to satisfy her ennui and artifice
But she does not see - the rien I see
The monster approaching her empty dreams
Spinning still - she does not know
The insomniac rose will begin to grow
The thorn of clandestine and ebony
Ostracized for he began to realize
What lies in nonsense is decadence
Which sparks interest
Who's lover is a dadaist
But his story is over now
As Seth lead the way
A poet dies in dismay
The thorn as she spun penetrated
A distraction and a lack of action
She knew the temptation for she so loved the sensation
Of crass, rebellious - ways
The thought laid it's seed
In her Gaulish mind it breeds
She has no other need and no regrets
So she proceeds and the smile lets
With full intention and desire
Caring none of her fate that will transpire
She presses her finger on the thorn
So now she bleeds knowingly
she did not recede
A demised man without
Jesus is dead.
So also living soul without
to receive hope,
To set the captives free,
With thirty pieces;he
Dark forces defeated.
Our sins forgiven,sure
Access to the father.
Breach in Adamic time,
Put in oblivion by lasting
His love is lasting.
The death of Jesus!
Lo He has resurrected!
While walking through a field one day, and singing as I went,
I was praising God for mercy in the Son that He had sent.
Then I stepped upon a thorn, and in my pain I quit my praise.
As my mouth was filled with cursing, and my heart with rage ablaze.
Then I stumbled for the thorn still sunk into my throbbing heel,
and I scraped my hands and knees; this causing me more pain to feel.
As the swearing, the profanity, kept spewing from my lip,
I could not contain my anger or regain a solid grip.
Nearby, there perched a little bird upon a barbed wire fence.
Twas watching with delight to see me losing all my sense.
For earlier he'd heard my song and thought it such a joke;
he, laughing at my madness, laughed so hard it made him choke.
He then took flight from place to place, that all should come to know
about this man who sang of grace, but came to sudden woe.
He published, far and wide, what he had seen and what he'd heard.
O' christian, when you sin be sure to think about this bird.
The little bird who lands upon an ear to tell the tale
of man redeemed who lives the same as those who've gone to hell.
That little bird will never understand the Savior's love
if saints below forget to praise their Maker up above.
(Canticles/The Song of Solomon / 2 Tim. 3: 16* / Ps. 33: 5
Ps. 37: 28 / Ps. 97: 10 / 2 Chron. 20: 7 / Isa. 54: 5
Deut. 7: 8 / Gen. 1: 1 / John 1: 1, 14, 18 / Ps. 83: 18)
May Liquid Lava Drip and Pool
From This Pen Tonight
As This Lover’s Letter I Have Longed
To Express To You and Write
May Lightning Rods Fuse On These Pages
To Enlighten and Ignite
Words, That Are As Clear As Bells
… as Clear As Black and White
… and Impart Good News
That Encourage and Excite
And Enthuse You With Joy
Like Wind Thru Tree Leaves Incite
And Bring Forth Your Smile
That Resembles Starry Sights
As I Reply and Verify
That All Will Be Alright
For Love Proceeds and Aligns
Just Like A Butterfly Alights …
So Like Blossoms Spread
On Silken Sheets Invite
May This Letter Convey
My Emotions Intense-Felt Might
And Reach You By Moon
Or On The Morrow’s Dawn Light
This Letter Being Sent
With All Hopes Bright
With The Eagerness of Swift Eagles
Focused In-Flight …
While At Present, Being Apart –
To You Seems Not So Clear
And Yes, A Generation of Youth
Ages In A Few Spent Years
But A Generation of Love
Will Not Disappear
For Our Love Will Generate
Power Strong and Secure
(Luke 21: 31, 32*, 33)
For Even Away … In Our Hearts
We Are Ever Near
And For Each Written Word
I Whisper For You To Hear …
For I Want You To Know
I Hold You Cherished, Dear
And I Will Not Forget You …
So Have No Fear …
Have No Fear … For There Is Not
Even To Compare Another
Our Bond Is Unique Like Fingerprints
& Snowflakes, Ocean Waves & Thunders
This, I Speak In Truth To You …
For I Am Your One-True-Lover
So Any Doubts, Lack of Faith
Or Infidelity – Please Smother
While We Are Absent …
One From The Other
(Gen. 31: 49)
There Is A War Raging On
Outside of Your Protected Walls
There Is A Battle Being Fought
Outside of Your Castle’s Halls
So I Need You To Be Brave
I Need You To Stand Tall …
For I Will Return For You
Victorious and All …
And There Is No Chance of Failure
To Make Me Slip-Away or Stall
With This Letter I Want You To Feel
Assured and Also My Touch
… Feel It Like A Soft Breeze
Raindrops, Sunshine and Such
For Our Intimacy Is A Purity
and No Need To Blush
We’ve Shared Secrets and Sacred Events
and Significant Times So Much
We’ve Even Shared Thru Sorrows
… and Neither of Us Gave Up …
And I Can Barely Wait To See You;
To Be Close As Face To Face
and Look Into Your Watchful Eyes
That So Beautifully Gaze
… and To Lift You Gently Up
Like A Black Swan Being Raised
(The Song of Solomon 1: 5)
(Part 1 of 4)
from where do they grow under the See of unknown some weaved in the shell and bone linking slinking silent under the sound waves maybe in the great lakes of the cat it lay but this great lynx under the ocean spray in reflective eyes this bright eyes he is a king over all the children of pride.
It has the head and paws of a giant cat weakens the nations an abdominal bat but is covered in scales and has daggers but set with hook in lake of fire he staggers like spikes running along its back and tail no weapon formed shall harm do not bewail just a toy of the most high he rises but fails taken for legends but the truth entails when returning the true Lord of Sky's with hook tremble satan Jesus draws nigh
... For Theirs Was A Loyal Love That Would Nay Suffer Guilt
Nor Wander, Nary Wrangle, Nor Waste, Nor Wrong, Nor Wilt
Whether Slow In Coming, Or of A Moment Passing Swift
Not Even An Enemy’s Blade Plunged In His Side To Its Hilt ! …
could Halt His Soft Footfalls Towards Forever …
Even In Whispered Woe & Weeping That Winds Would Nay Lift
Or Thru A Last Dance, Last Duty, Lost Dreams, Or Long-Ago-Drift
Even In All The Combined Separation Or An All Alone-Shift
Even Thru Gut-Struck-Grief Or The Unknown – Aye, Even If …
Out of Cold Shadows’ Desperation … Over A Highland Crag-Cliff
… slips The Soft Footfalls Towards Forever
Out of Cold Shadows On A Highland Moor
Will You Come Walking To Me As Hard Rains Pour?
Beneath A Tree of Life I Stood and Swore
To Bring You My Body & Every Beauty, It Bore
To Reach You Before Even Death’s Read Banns Door …
and Right Before, Our Soft Footfalls Towards Forever …
… Out of Cold Shadows, On A Highland Moor
Will You Wake For Me, When The Full Moon Soars?
Beneath A Tree of Life, I Stood and I Swore
To Bring You Back, Body ‘N Breath & The Beauty It Bore
Whether To Walk On Water Or Just Footprints On A Shore
in Soft, Footfalls Towards Forever To Explore …
yea, In Soft Footfalls Towards Forever … Still Furthermore …
(Isaiah 50: 4, 5 / Song of Solomon / John 11: 23 – 27 /
Genesis 3: 4, 13 – 15, 24 / Revelation 21: 3, 4)
Story Poem Written & ©: 1/ 3-6 /2013
by: MoonBee Canady