We are a People…
We are a people of strength,
because we are a people of faith.
We are a people of courage,
our faith rests in the Lord.
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We are a people of kindness,
our love comes from above.
We are a people of joy.
In God we trust alone.
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In good times, in bad times,
we are a people of soul.
For when darkness clouds our day,
It is He who restores our soul.
Today, I sat to write a post and I had nothing. My mind was blank, my heart felt heavy. As I was ready to close my notebook and throw the pen, the image of a soaring eagle crossed my mind. Then, I wrote.
Eagle’s Flight
Land of the Free
Land of the Brave
Beloved soil, beloved grave.
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Sadness, despair, chaos everywhere
Tumultuous times
Ungodly affairs.
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The eagle lands
Its tired wings
Signs of derail, never defeat.
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A little while, a tiny rift
Its wings will flap
Its heart will heal.
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Above the land, throughout the seas
The Eagle soars
In flight now, stronger it is.
From the Ashes
From the ashes Eagle soars
plumage burnt,
through the fire it has flown.
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In its beak, an olive leaf
In its heart
titanium shield.
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As lion it roars, as lamb its soul
Made anew through the storm
Diamond eyes, beak of gold.
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Beacon of light shines to the world
Stronger than ever
its grip has become.
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Freedom and hope it found way above
Under God, one nation
Under God, one soul.
Truth to light
The eagle soars
New rebirth, a brand-new home.
From the ashes
new spirit rose.
Evil and lies
Burnt up, exposed.
Once the cold weather starts, inevitably, I think of Jack Frost and the old cartoons depicting the old man with long frosty fingers, so I wrote him a poem.
Jack Frost
Jack Frost all dressed in white
evil fingers freezing the land.
Dark winter, time has stopped.
On the land, hell just froze.
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A prayer broke the mountain ice
A ray of light appeared above.
The host’s descent cold evil melts.
The land is thawed, is free once more.
A poem of the times.
Blood and Metal
You can break my skin
but you won’t break my soul
A second, a pinch,
my freedom lies within.
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Blood against metal
Machine against soul
These bones won’t break
These eyes won’t shut
Free Will is in my blood.
In God’s Image – A poetic Rant
When you call out inclusion, I am insulted; I believe I am a part already.
When you want to lower standards for me, I am underrated; I have high standards.
How can there be equality when I am being set apart as being different or less than by the same policies that claim equity?
Your policies are intended to keep me down, but I have never seen myself as a victim.
I am made in the image of God, and in God I trust.
Listening to the news may trigger an emotional response. In this case, a poem.
The Zombie Wife
Shattered, dry, tired, weak
broken spirit, broken will.
He stole her life, he cut her wings
Leaving her dreamless,
no soul within.
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Poisonous love,
Ivy of lies,
Ring of deceit.
From it she drank
becoming sick.
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No strength, no will
No wants, no needs
To break the chains,
to feel, to dream,
impossible feat.
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A zombie wife
the nymph became.
A lonely stare, unsteady step.
A living dead
No dreams, no quest.
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The Zombie Wife no tears has left,
No heart, no soul,
no blood to shed.
Empty her days,
her body carcass became.
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What will it take to pump her blood?
A ray of sun, a lightning bolt?
For she has searched a withered soul,
And there she found nothing but dust.
Her only hope comes from above.
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Her empty stare searching the clouds,
Her breathless lungs gasping for air,
Her shriveled heart has turned to stone,
Voiceless she screams,
Sound barrier broke.
*
A storm slowly brews,
lightning is seen, thunder is heard.
Tears become rain, drops of despair.
A jolting bolt strikes out her pain,
Making the dead alive again.
Photo by M.A.D.
If you watch the news, you are probably aware of the turmoil in this country. Sometimes, I feel as if the core of its foundation is trembling. I have to admit that the state of its affairs has overwhelmed me and even influence my mood and disposition. I don’t know if it is my perception but seems to me as if everything we have believed in, honored, and even taken from granted in this country is being tested in many levels.
I understand that for change to happen there has to be turmoil first; what is hidden must come to light and be known in order to facilitate change and growth. There can’t be a future without a past, and the only pathway to it is the present. With a heavy heart and love for country these words I wrote.
Country Blues
Red, white and blue
stripes, colors, liberty and woes.
Inside my heart the colors run
Red, white and blue, a patriot’s blood.
Feeling the blues
the eagle soars
deep within me
its wings so broad.
With every flap I feel its pain
looking for justice, hope, not disdain.
A nation ready to overcome
A people ready, in God we trust.
Red, white, and blue
the eagle soars anew.
Faith, liberty, justice, for one and all.
A people ready to honor God.
Many times, we take things for granted; I mean, the little blessings in life. Things such as the first snow, the first bud we see at the start of spring, the first colorful leaf one sees on the floor, the sounds of nature … so many beautiful things. We also live on a planet full of people, full of souls with dreams, full of good people and not-so-good people. However, we are all on this beautiful planet. The other day, I was reflecting about the evil in this world, and how a human being can personify it. Then I got thinking, what could possibly happen to a person to become that way – a living personification of evil. I thought, at least once during a lifetime that person must have had one dream, one dream of goodness. What happened? Immediately, a thought came to mind. When we stop counting blessings, even the tiniest ones, our heart becomes heavy. Our eyes are placed away from the blessings each day brings, and wander looking for what is missing. We go from a state of gratitude and plenty to one of ungratefulness, frustration, and misery. The soul starts lacking, and the pathway becomes dark. This thought did not give me an explanation of why people turn to evil deeds, but it gave me an understanding of how easily one can go from a state of joy and plenty to one of misery and lack.
It is December, a season to celebrate joy, a season of giving, and one of receiving as well. One to wish Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas, one to dream about the new year, and wish others a happy and healthy one. A season to look back and reflect about trials and blessings, and one to give thanks as well. I truly want to wish you all a beautiful and meaningful season, and a new year full of blessings, but mostly, I want to thank each one of you for being part of my world, for every comment, like, and read, because I don’t want to take those for granted – they are part of my blessings.
To you all Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays. Thank you. To all, my love.
Shining Stars
It was the night before Christmas
and I stepped outside to see
a sky showing all its glory
a firmament all lit.
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A silence as no other
whispered its peace to me
The blessings of the season
filling the air I breathe.
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As I looked to the heavens
a star shone bright above
the love of Jesus my savior, I thought
filling my heart with his love.
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Then one by one the stars shone bright
each one with a special light.
A voice I heard inside my heart
A whisper of love so bright.
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These are the souls of mankind
born pure, of evil none
like stars shining above
to each, a special light bestowed.
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It was the night before Christmas
I stepped outside to see.
I saw the love of God
for every human being.
Inkspeare 