Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Somedays
1:03 AMSome days my SuperWoman Cape gets tattered and torn, and I don't have time to mend it.
Some days I am Wonderwoman and can take on anything life throws at me.
Some days I sleep with a pink fuzzy owl named Who or a pink plaid porcupine named What.
Some days I am filled with enough courage to face monsters in real life as well as dreams solo.
Some days there is not enough coffee in the world.
Some days I am filled with a need, a drive to live, to do, to be, to create, to capture the moment.
Some days I laugh until my ribs hurt and I can't catch my breath.
Some days I invent new and creative combinations of swear words.
Some days I blast my iPod and get lost in the movement and the freedom of the music.
Some days I can not concentrate long enough to read a few pages of a book.
Some days I pour my heart out on a page in poetry, my soul in ink.
Some days I am a tight knot of emotions I can not manage to untangle or untie.
Some days I use humor to alleviate the discomfort of those around me.
Some days I use humor to cut at the stereotypes and ignorance of those around me.
Some days I am close to content, to making peace.
Some days I rage at God, I am angry with the world, I am bitter and broken.
Some days I am able to laugh at the ignorance of the population.
Some days I am tired of having to educate an entire society.
Some days I am tired of being seen as a wheelchair first and a person second.
Some days I want to try and fail rather than never try at all.
Some days I love to watch the sun pull down nights curtain and the stars emerge.
Some days I am just waiting for another chance tomorrow.
Some days I want to discover that I have wings and take flight above this mess of life.
Some days I am afraid of failing, of falling, of believing in an illusion.
Some days I see a whole and strong person when I catch my reflection in the mirror.
Some days I see nothing but damaged goods and failures in the same reflection.
Some days I stand before Jesus with my arms open wide, praising Him and rejoicing.
Some days I crawl upon my knees before him barely able to choke out a prayer.
Yet every day I am blessed, I am wealthy beyond measure, I am thankful for the abundance
Every day I wake to a new sunrise, a new hope, to faith and to the promise of a day.
No Dreams
11:48 PMNo dreams of front porches with wooden rocking chairs
To while away the hours of an autumn in a life
No illusions of grandchildren gathered round and drawing near
To listen to stories of way back when and years ago
No dreams of newborn nurseries with wooden rocking chairs
To gently soothe the restless hours of spring in a life
No illusions of children gathered round and drawing near
To listen to favorite bedtime stories just one more time
No dreams of a world without the presence of a wheelchair
To make accessible the fragile summertime of a life
No illusions of replacing those old hiking boots
To draw nearer to God in his creation once again
No dreams of a world with seamless, endless guarantees
To string days upon days without illness, without winters end
No illusions of youths invincibility, immortality
To draw bravado and contentment with simply being alive
No old dreams remain, those dreams from before
To hold on to them is to grasp at a wisp of a ghost
No illusions of promises but no fear of tomorrow
To live life with passion, to create no regrets
Haiti on My Mind
12:20 PM
Where is God when the children die
When a meager existence is shattered to rubble
And an entire nation lets out agony’s cry
Did he close his eyes
Did he turn his head
Did he ignore the suffering voices
Of both the living and the dead?
Was this the land of the truly forsaken
Those born without to die without
And in between to struggle and anguish without
Is that the truth of what their lives are about?
Was God truly absent
As the world crumbled and cracked
Was he preoccupied with other affairs
Or is it perspective we all lacked?
For God felt every moment of pain magnified
He cried along with every single tear that has been cried
His hands were beside those digging out the survivors
And his arms were wide open to greet all those who died
His promise is in every prayer sung in the darkest of nights
Hope comes in one volunteer, one life at a time
Compassion overflows in the giving, the sacrifices of an entire world
Love is living and breathing in humanity at its prime
God was there from the moment their world fell apart
In the rescuers he finds hands, in the journalists he finds voice
From the doctors he finds healing, from the populace he grows hope
He is there, but it is our presence that is the choice.
When a meager existence is shattered to rubble
And an entire nation lets out agony’s cry
Did he close his eyes
Did he turn his head
Did he ignore the suffering voices
Of both the living and the dead?
Was this the land of the truly forsaken
Those born without to die without
And in between to struggle and anguish without
Is that the truth of what their lives are about?
Was God truly absent
As the world crumbled and cracked
Was he preoccupied with other affairs
Or is it perspective we all lacked?
For God felt every moment of pain magnified
He cried along with every single tear that has been cried
His hands were beside those digging out the survivors
And his arms were wide open to greet all those who died
His promise is in every prayer sung in the darkest of nights
Hope comes in one volunteer, one life at a time
Compassion overflows in the giving, the sacrifices of an entire world
Love is living and breathing in humanity at its prime
God was there from the moment their world fell apart
In the rescuers he finds hands, in the journalists he finds voice
From the doctors he finds healing, from the populace he grows hope
He is there, but it is our presence that is the choice.







