23rd Psalms: Path to Righteousness
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Poetic Form: Parallelismus Membrorum/Prose
Inspired: 2024 July 14
Image: N/A
Mom of 13 siblings was the last to pass. Behind a hung draped sheet that parted the bedroom she was in, from the living room, she saw Grandpa prepare wooden crates used to pack mangoes, guavas, lilikoi aka passion fruit, papaya, kiwi, mountain apple, lychee, coconuts -- and five of her siblings after grandma placed blankets and linen and wrapped them in fine Hawaiian printed garments. They forbade her to go outside and wait until they return, on those five separate occasions.
My Lord and my Shepherd
beseech my prayers heard
sofa appealed slumbrous
I woke to moms stillness
Dad did the paperwork, and I filled in her name in the blanks he left. Finance and legal papers were Mom's cup of coffee. Coffee doesn't agree with her, --her cup of tea was the Offering Plate/Collection Box, and of course, The Word of God.
death's shadow took my fear
rod and staff constant's near
thoust table Lord prepared
my enemies looked scared
Her continued presence praising daily she viewed as Heaven's reward, the other did its best to rob her link to that said Heaven. The advent whereto I bear witness was in my purview, led to her fiercest battle on Earth. Her mouth was vociferous yet her eyes were tightened, as a list of names of known passed family and others unfamiliar to me, she hollered. The noise was of no concern as her garage and back of the house, was Punchbowl cemetery. It sat on a bluff with all of Honolulu in silent view. I had hospice place her bed in the living room, though the view of Waikiki purposed a void. I was sipping coffee in her dining room, that day before. I watched the Capitol Rotunda come to life, then at that moment, her voice remained naming names like some welcoming committee of our descendants. Amid Heavenly greeting, I fell asleep on the living room sofa. I awoke to an absent voice. Mom submitted herself into the arms of everlasting Grace ... and she was at peace.
oils my head, anoint thee
runneth o'er ... my cup be
goodness, mercy, chose me
your House -- me ... let it be
Mom was an exorcist, bible belt, and the deep south of the Johnnies, along with the tent revivals, and as time permits--a prayer warrior. She served as a missionary, mostly they were established missions in The Philippines, South Asian island nations, and Oceanic island nations. The track of righteousness has a following. The weakened follow the stronger, for their bargain is for the sake of hell--and they got to know ... Mom & The Word of God.
Copyright © Hilo Poet | Year Posted 2024
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