Sojourners all
We must fall
Here today, now
No morrow, how?
We fade away
Slowly, if I may
Out of limelight
Not out of sight
It all falls apart
Ere your body, they cart
To the grave
Home of the brave
We're just pilgrims
And sojourners
On this planet.
All ye humble sojourners rest in peace
From this tired troubled earth you’ve been set free
Your souls ensconced in the heavenly home
Be thou our guide as we pray with thee
Before the Holy One ye stretch in full obeisance
In contemplation , worship and prayer offering
Separate from us , yet united in Christ’s body
Church - triumphant, militant and suffering
As we await the glory that is to come
To God’s chosen, predestined ones
Let us shield our eyes from the destruction unfolding
While we sing our psalms with our daughters and sons
When evil has run its course in time
And a great many nations fall and rise
The people of God will be gathered together
Christ will rule with peace and end our cries
How great will be that glorious day
When the Sons of God will be revealed
A thousand splendid suns will shine
When the Book of Life will be unsealed.
"all of us are on a journey and the answers are unspoken"
Quote by _Constance La France
The cause is illusory; effect too; process pursues;
We sojourners know the cause; none speaks; just a silent muse!
Brahmacharya (student) Grihastha (householder) are gone,
Vanaprastha (forest walker and the searcher) is on...!
Sun is my guide during the day and the lamp lit at night,
Life and death are constant; betwixt morals never a fight;
My journey, having been blessed with episodes good and bad,
Physique and psyche move together expectations clad...!
This lamp of mine should be kept burning till I reach my end,
God has entrusted it to me; Goal is hope and trust blend;
Oneness with the almighty leads my journey tirelessly,
My silent, simple aim is: To dwell with him endlessly...!!!
15 May 2023
Writing Challenge A Quotes - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Rhymes Checked At: Rhymes Zone
Syllables Checked At: How Many Syllables
Wind can be a bit pushy
at times
Though I would be first
to admit
of needing nudges in different
directions
inclined to linger too long
under shady canopy
or at the seashore
gazing off into dreamy
horizon
my mind inclined toward
repainting sunsets
rearranging stars into
unique constellations
or writing poetry
strictly for sojourners
each poem a gateway
to ports further unknown
days of fasting overlap
prayers offered to fill a gap
in lives surrounded by a wrap
of tradition and modern seditions
today, Lent and Ramadan bring
times of reflection and for some, to sing
folks set aside the mundane, for a better thing
to live special days, mingled with cherished conditions
like ships passing in the night
sojourners waiting for the morning light
take time to reflect on another’s might
seeking the Divine with community renditions
When wanders weep,
heaving, heavy hearts
eventually erupt, evading
notice, like so many naars.1
When wanderers weep,
announcing vulnerability
not caring who sees their
drops darkening the dirt,
evoked discomfort greets them.
Reassuring platitudes rise up to
erase their deepest hurts,
rescuing strangers from action,
strangling empathy.
When wanderers weep
expectations slip away.
experience’s realities scream,
“Please, see me through this day!”
1. naars - a type of flawed diamonds
AN ALLEGORICAL COCOON LESSON
(APROPOS OF POLLING)
In preparation, ants are moulding
And stacking their mounds; in hives,
Bees reflect collective oneness
In the sweetness of their unity;
And in high distant places, black
Widows meticulously spin their webs,
While honing hornets harden their nests:-
Cocooned in political and economic darkness,
Let us not be dismayed, apathetic sojourners;
Remember, while caterpillars are entombed
To be no more, their cocoon eventually opens
And out soars a liberated beautiful butterfly:-
Let us be as the butterfly, as we powerfully soar
With flapping vote-casting wings gliding us
Towards full liberation in our political sojourn.
In preparation, ants are moulding and stacking
Their mounds, while in hives, bees are reflecting
The collective oneness in the sweetness of unity;
With voting power, let us likewise reflect such
Sweetness of unity in power-based rendering:-
My heart beats
harder at the thought
of farewell
We are here
just to meet and part in life~
merely sojourners!
When I lie
dead in my coffin
pale and white
motionless,
you all will send me away
with a farewell kiss.
All I wish,
as you bid adieu
is to keep
me fondly
in your kind thoughts now and then
after laid to rest!
Placed Second
Feb.18.2022
Give me A Shadorma Poetry Contest
Sponsor - Sotto Poet
I can dream, can't I?
Everything old is new again,
all that was is now on rewind and repeat.
Look at history -
we are immigrants,
sojourners from our homeland,
it's a struggle and a strain
fighting for freedom's voice once again.
A land where everyone is equally the same
looking for a place to be free.
wasn't that America?.
It’s a tryingly featured world to be in,
In which every restless heart minds
Pleasant principal affairs of its own;
Where spurned soul no solace finds.
It’s an unresting space to occupy,
Where every stirring brain thinks
Of its own idiosyncratic concerns;
Where tired limbs totter on brinks.
It’s an interesting place to have share
In unique diaries of fellow sojourners,
Sparing oneself yet giving some part
To other mortals of diverse manners.
It’s a pretty striking existence to pass
Best seasons doing stuff you’ll leave,
And still feel okay despite knowledge
You’ll lose all fiscal efforts that peeve.
In my latter years
I spend much time
reflecting ( a figure-
of-speech, of course;
for there is little sheen
left to the skin for light
to beam back: and far too
many wrinkles to recall
a satisfying image)--but
I digress: as I was saying,
a survey of the paths I
have taken, and my
fellow sojourners met
along the way, occupy
much of my time –
So little seems important
now...the wonder of them
all escapes me: what I have
collected and discarded,
probably having overlooked
the best – especially those
dear casual relationships I
took for granted, my
charm to acquire many
as needed. If there is
indeed a God to meet
in the near future, I pray
he has a more favorable
opinion of me – and
if not...perhaps will
cut me some slack for
a sincere attempt at
honesty….
How beautiful the third heaven must be
Jesus has prepared a place for you and me
It's a haven of rest for the weary
Discouraged sojourners and teary
How restoring heaven must be
With the river of life and no dead sea
It is an oasis for the thirsty
And the crystal-clear river isn't murky
How rewarding heaven must be
With those heavenly songs sung for free
The numbers in those choirs so massive
About heaven I can't be passive
How truly awesome heaven must truly be
I ask, "don't you want to go, I even plea?"
With Jesus the light forever and no night
No need to sleep and no nightmare to fright
How glorious our heavenly home must be
A mansion for each He is preparing, so gee
There's a tree of life to feed from forever
So let Jesus' love be your endeavor
For how wonderful heaven must truly be
A home prepared for you and me
Written: October 27, 2020
Gee means go to the right...
I have a bet
with an old fig tree
in my backyard;
a bet as to whether
he will be out
of the ground
before I am in it;
not that we wish the other
a speedier demise, for there
is a strong fondness and
bound we share -- having fed
one another for many years—
I, on his figs and lustrous shade;
and he, on my careful pruning
and sensitive irrigation...both
of us, around harvest, receiving
song-full praising from the
many winged interlopers, and
four legged sojourners of our
opulent and thoroughly integrated
community;
as to the motive for our wager
it is more tongue-and-cheek,
or bark-and...whatever --
reflecting the inevitable folly
of both our journeys…
below or above seems to make
little difference in the final
revelation—sort of like, rich
vs. poor...we are all equal
to the Grim Reaper—Nature’s
totally, Politically Correct
Recycler….
FIVE
She carries the repentant over the floss…
As little children, wrapped in swaddling clothes,
She comforts them and helps them bear their loss
As gently as a shadow, so she goes…
Forgives the one who stole her golden coin,
Forbears to hurt the bullies who hurt her,
Forswears revenge, invites them all to join
Her in a jolly round-dance, ‘neath a fir…
For Heaven is a happy place where all
Our slips, and stabs, and slurs, and stares lie down,
Forgotten, while we deck the merry hall,
And everyone forgets to wear a frown!
And so, arrive the sojourners at last
To join the angels in joyful repast!
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