An angel made of stone,
Behind her an unknown light
Providing the way home.
At the end of this night,
Not lonely, but I am alone.
I know that she is sleeping
In that stone beneath the sky.
But nonetheless she is my guardian,
I will keep her in my eye.
What does she do but remind me?
Of the days to come.
To remind, to help forget.
What I’ve left behind can stay there.
With forward movement I’m let.
Here, meeting my guardian,
Restoring unknown hope.
Thanks to my brother Jesse for allowing me to use his photo for this poem, which was also the inspiration for me to write it 🙂
Ask me no secrets; I shall tell no lies.
All of what I know is in the open,
All of what I tell you is true reply.
Let that not change, let lies not be chosen.
With my mouth stitched shut, I shall keep this thought.
During the coming day they are prying.
I have earned this secret with trust I bought.
I will not fail this, for I am trying.
Asking, prying eyes, the curious tells,
They ask again. Mistakenly I give.
On untrustworthy ears, this secret fell.
A misjudgment corrected, they won’t live.
No more they pry, for what’s in my head.
I keep secrets, the other two are dead.
I’ve just reached 200 followers!!!
Thank you to all of you, for all of your encouragement and support!! Have a happy Thanksgiving and happy holidays!! God bless! 🙂
Thankful for what again?
Searching, searching, nothing to gain.
Though for the waiting, nothing’s changed,
And your heart is still the same.
Dry and hard and black and cold.
Age not blameless, but not to blame.
“It’s too late.” we should not say.
Within the darkness there is a tame
Light, a hope that takes away
All the fear inside that blames
You instead of it.
This task; mustn’t remit.
To cast off this fear
Will take more than one night.
However, pressing towards it,
Is how you start off right.
Posted in Rise Above
Tagged age, blame, cold, darkness, fear, hard, heart, night, old, poetry, thankful
Rushing to the end, once there,
Light once seen, lies bare.
This tunnels end no end at all,
But just another headlong run into a wall.
Already standing for another try,
I will find another tunnel
I’ll find another light.
She’s twice as tired.
This is twice as long,
Through the fire,
She’s twice as strong.
One more try
And though she fail,
She’ll try to stand.
Back to the trail.
And lessons learned.
One more bridge
Needing to be burned.
Twice, no three times
More she’s tired.
She can endure.
Having been through so much fire.
And the little one she asks you
Why you think that this is your fault,
You cannot answer it’s something that you can’t recall.
A hundred times I’ve told you you’re pointlessly blaming yourself.
And the little one she crys. Don’t think that this is your fault.
Fighting these thoughts from day to day.
You’re watching her play,
And then you pray.
That you’ll turn out better than yours before;
While you left to play,
She stayed away.
Though eveytime you love her,
You become more,
More than she showed you,
The one before.
Everytime you’re her mother, the litte one,
You’re already something yours won’t become.
And the little one is happy, and she loves you.
You love her, and I love you.
We’ll hold you and help you until you say:
“It’s not my fault. I’m not to blame.”