Poems, Personal Stories, and Observations

Posts tagged ‘wounds’

What Comfort

What comfort I receive
When gentle raindrops fall
Upon my roof — and I
Am dry beneath it all.

What comfort I now feel
When warm inside my bed,
Like mom who wrapped me in her arms,
And always kept me fed.

What grief I sense for those
Who under freeways sleep
Who struggle every day to find
Security to keep.

My heart is broken now
For families torn apart.
For strife and anger uncontained,
The wounds of broken hearts.

O, gentle raindrops, tell
Those suffering now from want,
That there’s a God Who loves them still;
He loves your broken heart.

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Poems

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We Will Go Home

[Note: I have tried for YEARS to write a decent poem in iambic pentameter, with no success. Then this one just HAPPENED. There’s no telling how the muse will strike.]

We will go home, we will go home at last.
No crying then, and all our sorrows past.
All will be well, our wounds and traumas done —
The world so bright, like unto twenty suns.

And then we’ll know, yet couldn’t see it here,
That all our troubles, hardships, and our fears,
Were but a flash, a drop in ocean vast —
Were only tests and trials, meant not to last. 

And then we’ll see (but didn’t seem so then) —
The suff’ring woe of women and of men
Was worth it all — for what we were to gain,
Outshines, like sun, the candle of our pain.

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Poems

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Tell Your Story

Tell your story –
Your life is gold.
Each precious life –
Its story must be told.

Do you not know?
Your wounds can heal another.
Through them you passed;
Your life was turned asunder.

From wounds you learned;
Your heart became much stronger.
Your life has turned;
It’s time to tell another.

The years must pass;
If well, we grow and flourish.
And now, at last,
We can another nourish.

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poetry, Uncategorized

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Terrifying Disguise

The phrase “Life’s a gift in terrifying disguise”
is taken from an article  by Dr. Kelly Flanagan:
“What to Do When Our Feelings Are Lying to Us”

A baby cries,
Thrust from its mother’s womb –
Unless it’s been his tomb.

By grace or chance,
He continues life’s dance.

If parents give her
Love and Truth,
She’ll have less wounds.

If, instead,
They do berate –
There’ll be more hate.

Life can be cruel –
So many wounds we give and take –
But there is grace.

Life’s a gift in terrifying disguise.
Yet there is One Who redeems —
Let Him also heal.

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Christian, Poems

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