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Etna Catania Poem
Little girl talking to sceptic
'Little girl why do you believe? ',
asked a man who would soon again leave,
but first had to bring, to a little girl, a little grief.
And she said, 'Does the birds, stars and plants not call out His name' , she asked the sir.
Trying not to create a stir,
'Are you not in search of a cure'.
'Little girl why do you believe', and she said,
'does my heart not say what is true,
hearing it speak and seeing what is due...
for fallen is me and fallen are you.'
'Little girl why do you believe?' and she said,
'Was there not a man,
who called me with a plan,
so that i can inherit his land?'
Then she asked the man,
'Looking at the skies,
people spitting lies,
and the Truth that dies,
Why can't you see His beautiful eyes?'
t.
Copyright © Etna Catania | Year Posted 2018
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Etna Catania Poem
a gift returned:
Danger
Darkness
Despair
Pain
Pressure
Cold
Death
With the touch of a thumb,
even the heart that is numb,
can feel the truth of life,
especially the one belonging to mother and wife.
Is it alive,
or is it dead?
Will it live,
after all is done and said?
'Let them come to me',
the good teacher said.
'Surely those little ones I will see,
for in the kingdom of Heaven they will be.'
'If anyone lets one of these stumble',
on the day of judgement the sky will rumble.
A life unlived is a sin,
Think of the consequences of throwing a child in a bin.
Restless, Reckless, Ridiculous decision,
a sacrifice will be given to the reigning god.
You sharpen your knife fighting through the suppression,
to kill the sinless volunteer for a pagod.
Broken bodies will arrive,
but healed hearts will survive.
Rulers of the next earth they will be,
rules of you and me.
Hope
Safe
Soft
Silent
Warm
Light
Life
Love
t.
Copyright © Etna Catania | Year Posted 2018
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Etna Catania Poem
'.Jesus does not pop his pimples.'
Jesus doesn't pop His pimples,
how could He if there was no mirror.
Could divinity find error,
in His own infections?
NO!
Jesus can destroy,
that which causes harm.
No matter the nails through His palm,
He loves them all.
So...
If you hear hanging, crashing, shooting, popping, dying
find rest knowing Jesus is still.
It is but the sound of
lost discimples losing their fill.
t.
Copyright © Etna Catania | Year Posted 2018
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Details |
Etna Catania Poem
Standing tall in the African sun,
providing shade and food for the young.
Giving shelter and rest to the old,
Rustling of the leaves tell beautiful stories of the brave and bold.
Its roots grip a nation together,
beacon for Africa; a better future.
Looking up to the mountains,
finding strength in its creator.
Three silhouettes on the horizon,
coming closer to destroy a nation.
Like a disease they cut, chop and saw,
replacing logic and law.
Tree gum flows, from the impaled neck,
of the innocent, defenseless old tree.
“What have we done?”
“Father, save this nation,
and save our children.”
t.
Copyright © Etna Catania | Year Posted 2018
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