For sickness, for weariness
What, more world-fatiguing
Appals, too brightly aware
Through hot self-accusing stare
Will to live bores deep in
Seductive as a whisper
The call to sleep, saves.
Which great peace, issued from out
Which place, soft-winged, beds about
Child, stood guard o'er, craves.
How shall I weep with those who mourn
When I have sensed the sweeter breeze
Wafting o'er the stones and through the trees
Across the sealed bronzed lid of death-borne
Sadness, yet eternal healing surely means
The bereft of pain are free;
The bereft of loss are free.
And so am I who stands before the glaring pit
Gazing into vast eternity, thinking only of me.
I shall not linger long to greet the wounded
Souls, whose cries of anguish at the bier
Reawakened in me long-dormant fear of dying
O, pity me, that I should self-accusing be
Grief-stricken without a solitary tear.
Published in PS: IT'S POETRY
Anthology of Poetry Soup
Arczis Web Technologies, Inc., 2020
FIRST PLACE WINNER
Brian Strand's Contest 2021
SELECTED FEATURED POEM
Poetry Soup, September 28, 2021
POETRY.COM COLLECTION
Poetry.com
April 16, 2022
F reedom has been granted to the offender
O ffended ones receive fresh freedoms within
R eigns of guilt and self-accusing have ended
G race has pardoned, covered, and cast away the offence
I, the offender, is liberated; I, the offended cease deliberating
V ictors who desist from holding on, are now enabled to move on
E levated to new positions of victory, forgivers sit on thrones of love
N ew normal of grace fills the empty spaces
E nemies lurking within me are then obliterated
S ins of bitterness, resentment, and revenge are gone
Salvation and a heavenly satisfaction have now arrived
08112017 PS Contest, End October Premiere, Strand
Matthew 6:12
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