I am not sugar and spice and everything nice.
I am art.
I am a story.
I am a church bell, gonging out wrongs and rights and normal nights.
I was baby. I am child. I will be mother.
I don’t mind being considered beautiful, I do not allow that to be my definition.
I am a rich pie strong with knowledge.
I will not be eaten.
what is stronger/than the human heart/which shatters over and over/and still lives
if you were born with/the weakness to fall/you were born with/the strength to rise
she is water/soft enough/to offer life/tough enough/to drown it away
Nor public flame, nor private, dare to shine;
Nor human light is left, nor glimpse divine!
Lo! Thy dread Empire, Chaos, is restored;
Light dies before thine uncreating word:
Thy hand, great Anarch, lets the curtain fall;
And universal darkness buries all.
I know not if there is a reason
Why I am so sad at heart.
A legend of bygone ages
Haunts me and will not depart.
The air is cool under nightfall.
The calm Rhine courses its way.
The peak of the mountain is sparkling
With evening’s final ray.
The fairest of maidens is sitting
Unwittingly wondrous up there,
Her golden jewels are shining,
She’s combing her golden hair.
The comb she holds is golden,
She sings a song as well
Whose melody binds an enthralling
And overpowering spell.
In his little boat, the boatman
Is seized with a savage woe,
He’d rather look up at the mountain
Than down at the rocks below.
I think that the waves will devour
The boatman and boat as one;
And this by her song’s sheer power
Fair Lorelei has done.
Ah, steeds, steeds, what steeds! Has the whirlwind a home in your manes? Is there a sensitive ear, alert as a flame, in your every fiber? Hearing the familiar song from above, all in one accord you strain your bronze chests and, hooves barely touching the ground, turn into straight lines cleaving the air, and all inspired by God it rushes on!
Unselfishly, you left your fathers and your mothers,
You left behind your sisters and your brothers.
Leaving your beloved children and wives,
You put on hold, your dreams—your lives.
On foreign soil, you found yourself planted
To fight for those whose freedom you granted.
Without your sacrifice, their cause would be lost
But you carried onward, no matter the cost.
Many horrors you had endured and seen.
Many faces had haunted your dreams.
You cheered as your enemies littered the ground;
You cried as your brothers fell all around.
When it was over, you all came back home,
Some were left with memories to face all alone;
Some found themselves in the company of friends
As their crosses cast shadows across the land.
Those who survived were forever scarred
Emotionally, physically, permanently marred.
Those who did not now sleep eternally
‘Neath the ground they had given their lives to keep free.
With a hand upon my heart,
I feel The pride and respect; my reverence is revealed
In the tears that now stream down my upturned face
As our flag waves above you, in her glory and grace.
Freedom was the gift that you unselfishly gave
Pain and death was the price that you ultimately paid.
Every day, I give my utmost admiration
To those who had fought to defend our nation.
I dreamed death came the other night
and heaven gate swung wide
With kindly grace an angel fair
Ushered me inside
And there to my astonishment
Stood folks I’d known on earth
Some I’d judged and labeled
As “unfit”, of little worth
Indignant words rose to my lips
But never were set free
For every face showed stunned surprise
No-one expected me.
Desperately, helplessly, longingly I cried,
Quietly, patiently, lovingly He replied.
I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate,
And the master said gently, “Child, you must wait.”
LORD, I need answers, I need to know why?
Is your hand shortened or have you not heard?
By faith I have asked and I’m claiming your WORD.
My future and all to which I can relate hangs in the balance,
And you tell me “Wait”?
I’m needing a yes, a go ahead sign or even a no to which I can resign.
And Lord, you’ve promised that if we believe
We need but to ask and we shall receive.
And Lord, I’ve been asking, and this is my cry,
“I’m weary of asking I need a reply.”
And quietly, softly I learned of my fate,
As my master replied once again, “You must wait.”
So I slumped in my chair defeated, and thought and grumbled to God,
And said, “So I’m waiting for what?”
He seemed then to kneel and His eyes met with mine,
And He tenderly said, “I could give you a sign.
I could raise the dead and cause the mountains to run.
All you seek I could give and pleased you would be.
You would have what you want, but you wouldn’t know Me.
You’d not know the depth of My love for each saint,
You would not know the power I give to the faint,
You’d not learn to see through clouds of despair,
You’d not learn to trust just by knowing I’m there,
You’d not know the joy of resting in Me,
When darkness and silence was all you could see.
You would never experience that fullness of love,
As the peace of My Spirit descends like a dove.
You would know that I give, and I save for a start,
But you’d not know the depth of the beat of My heart.
The glow of My comfort late in the night,
The faith that I give when you walk without sight,
The depth that’s beyond getting just what you ask of an infinite God,
Who makes what you have last.
And you never would know should your pain quickly flee,
What it means that “My grace is sufficient for thee.”
Yes, your dreams for that loved one o’er night could come true,
But the loss is you lost what I’m doing in you.
So be silent My child, and in time you will see,
That the greatest of gifts is to get to know me.
And though oft may My answers seem terribly late,
My most precious answer of all is still “Wait!”