PONDERING LABORING DAYS AHEAD
In the laboring days ahead,
Dawning with continuous trials,
And subsequent tribulations,
Let’s not be like sheep
In a slaughtering pen;
Rather, let’s be as lambs
In the garden of God:-
Armed with faith and hope,
And God’s divine guidance,
Let us, as the Psalms remind us,
Journey onwards to overcoming:
“Defending truth, humility, and justice”:-
For indeed, our God is a God of justice;
Justice indeed, being, “His royal scepter.”
Thus, as Summer is waning,
And leave falling Fall preludes
The vicious coming of Winter,
Let us realize resurrecting Spring
Will likewise return with healing grace:-
Thus, let us continue in our resurrecting
Labors of love, sowing reaping justice:-
In The Weathering Of War
In today’s
storming war
weathering
world peace
is rotting out
and we need
to sow new seeds
of her
germinating
new fruits:
the weary world
Is starving
for new peace
and we need
to get to
plowing new fields
of nourishing peace
and healing grace
in this world
that’s in dire need
of rehabilitation
of war’s
debilitating demise:-
(p.s./n.b.)
In proverbial ways
scripture reminds us
in divine wisdom
and guidance
to never doubt
the power
of sowing
seeds:
thus
in labors
of love
let us
strive to be
sowers
and reapers
of divine
world peace:-
When love is working,
hate is busy challenging;
faith, busy winning:-
Where love is working,
melting away all despair,
hate is as ice in the sun:-
In labors of love,
injustice is defeated;
and justice is won:-
Let love’s heart lead you:
the fuel-pump of your courage,
justice’s compass:-
Be a love worker,
dismantling oppression,
building liberty:-
There’s crucifixion,
and there is resurrection;
be God’s laborer:-
Fifty years ago today, on this National Holiday,
I was busy laboring away..
At the tender age of twenty-two God blessed
me with a son, Matthew..
Heaven opened up above and brought a baby boy to love..
All mothers know that special bond, the first birth, that number one..
I watched him grow from boy to man and gradually released my hand..
The years have passed much too swiftly.
My boy to man is now age fifty!!
My only son, my greatest blessing. A mother's pride is worth professing..
perfect pace of performance portends potage and potables
5/11/2022
WORK PERSPECTIVE MONOKU
Sponsor: Beata Agustin
Feeling this disorganization
Reaching out for new awareness
Cold rubble beneath our hands
No conception of darkness
Is this the cruelest con
Moving boulders across this floor?
Feeling my spirit breaking
When asking, "What's this for?"
All we know for certain
Is surely we do not know
And we pray to the blackness
To reveal which way to go
Yet despite the emptiness
Learning a dance called Trust
We begin to move in harmony
Like ants amidst the dust
Then a beautiful epiphany
Like the first time to the ocean
The golden light now illuminating
The reason for this painful motion
The foundations of friendship
Are now falling into place
And I acknowledge this sacred temple
Seeing the sunshine on your face
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