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the symphony
played by the water
upon the shore

punctuated at times
by that errant wave
that crashed a little too hard

dislodging half-buried notions,
revealing pint-sized dreams
and tabulating forgotten score

serving watchful eyes
a fistful of sand,
and pays concerned hearts
with total disregard
your whispered gentle breath
on which your silent prayer
is hardly heard, is heard,
a poets deep song of love
joining with the Universe
of seen and unseen worlds
your whispered last breath
before you succumb to sleep
is heard in the depths of silence.
... for not being on site as much as I probably should be. Some of you may know I have been going through some very difficult times. I do not write about these to elicit sympathy. I only want understanding and compassion. Thank you for reading this entire post.

My father was recuperating well, but it's now flagging in his resolve to live. He has almost entirely lost his hearing. He's losing his eyesight. And now he cannot talk. He had to have a trach put in because his vocal cords were frozen and he couldn't breathe. He requires 24-hour care. He cannot return to the high-functioning home where he was staying before. He will now have to go into a nursing home.

It is very hard to witness this. He is a survivor of the battle of Okinawa. He is a survivor of stage 3 throat cancer. Chemotherapy and radiation treatment at the age of 85. He is now 92. I just don't know if he can survive this. I just need to remember he lived a long rich life.

The biggest problem I'm having is that I know my father is not prepared for eternity. He refuses to even discuss the concept of God. He's always been an Atheist. He is a chemist. A scientist. And he was hurt very badly by religion when he was growing up. I have sown seeds, though. Perhaps the Lord will come to him in a dream or vision. I just don't know...

No matter what happens I am prepared. It is just very difficult, and I cannot concentrate very well. Also I and spending a lot more time in my spiritual practices, so please forgive me if I'm not on the site as much as I could be. It does not mean I don't love you... there are people that are on this site who I pray for on a daily basis. I blanket this site with prayer. There are some who might not believe in the power of this, but I have seen miracles happen right here on this site. A young man was cured of malaria just a couple of weeks ago. Prayer is the most loving and powerful thing anyone can do for another person.
I DO IT FOR YOU ALL.

Thank you for reading.

♡ Catherine
A rose, they say, will have its thorn,
Which cannot harm nor ****,
It only serves to give its bloom
A scent that's sweeter still.

SøułSurvivør
(C) 12/23/2002

It's 1:30am. I must sleep. Goodnight! :)
I wish to age like a wrap-around porch
In a thunder storm,
While generations tell tales,
Sipping drinks.
A porch of blinking stars,
A shelter out of rain,
With ascending and descending friends.

I will age like a tree,
Grow stronger in the wind;
Give shade and shelter to all
Beneath my ring-aged limbs.

I wish to age as a river bends,
Contiguous with all shores;
Floating everyone I know
On eternal waters,
A current winding with no rest.

I will age like a star,
Burning bright, giving light,
Something to reach for.

I wish to age like a mountain,
With secret caves and riches.
And you can rock your soul
Around, over or through,
Solid, snow-capped summit,
Beckoning you.

I will age as the moon,
In stages, full and new;
Each night different,
Unnoticeable fading,
As all who age will do.
Thank you all very much for your thoughtful, insightful and kind comments. It's a wonderful surprise and honor to be chosen for the daily, as there are so many **** good poems written by the poets here every day. And especially a sleeper like "I Will Age." I guess it's a lesson to be learned. Thanks again to everyone, and especially to Hello Poetry for giving us this marvelous opportunity to publish.
Peace to All.
Francie
Cumulus clouds
erupting
in the searing heat
over the green pined hills

Sitting
contemplating
reviewing one's life
change is coming
burning up

Corn cob
clouds emerging
while lightening flashes

Tomorrow the
fog
leading to rain
all is silent
no movement occurs
the heat wave ends.
They bring with them the baggage of men
the lost children attempting pathetically
to recreate the aura of time long gone.

If you discount the roughness of skin
travel past the thick hedge of beard
penetrate the silt on the eroded eyes
you can delayer the hardened coats
and get to see  faces barely recognizable.

Some were once too close to be missed
their names and all
but most you could hardly recall
and it agonizes your thought
were they in the same class or not.

You smile till your jaws ache
fetching stories from the blue
dazzlingly colored and half true
for they are all in the mood
to joyfully succumb to falsehood.

You could tell from the body language
who's  in the backburner
and who on the front page.

Forty years break and make men
but they feign happiness
to be united again.
oh you
the you shining brighter
then any sun
you must take this day
in memory
recall it
one day
long hence
for you have innocence
it is  not so bright
come September
unless on a
whim you can call it up
with that snap
of your fingers
red  paint lasts
what a day or two --
even the sky
ages into
horizons--
without
chipping?
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