A MESSAGE FROM THE SKY

I look upward towards the skies,
And try to decipher the clouds.
Perhaps they draw what satisfies
Me with a shape that love abounds.

On earth l cannot see what l
Have been awaiting for long time.
I want what can me gratify
With shapes that have something sublime.

The clouds are white and pure like snow.
I've liked that hue of saintly worth.
They also draw a dove or cow;
We have a lot of them on earth.

All that l see can on earth be,
But in the sky, they are quite pure.
I know the problem is in me.
I can't begrime, then them endure.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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WOULD YOU BEFRIEND YOUR ANALOGUE ?

If there were a man like you,
Would you like that man to view ?
Would you take him as a friend,
Or his meeting soon you end ?

If you hate that boring man,
Don't blame men if they complain
When you are with them or near
As you spoil their atmosphere.

If you like to be with him
As with life he is agleam.
All to be with you are glad;
Old and young even your God.

Man is not by how he looks,
But by what he does and seeks.
Great men can do what most men
Can't imagine to be done.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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FEAR

I know what kind of place is hell;
Fear is an ember from that well.
It burns all what it just comes near,
Destroying man and his career.

No man will choose hell if he can
As he knows fire and its pain.
He won't take what himself will hurt
And place it in his throbbing heart.

From oldest days fear could destroy
Old dreams and sever men from joy.
It could bring failure from success
And distress from the state of bliss.

I wonder how men can trust it
Though they know what it can commit.
They know its acts to hell is near,
But they still follow ruthless fear.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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JUST SELF TO BLAME

No one on earth l have to tell
Why l do this and don't do that
Except my heart that brings me hell
If it does not approve my act.

When l sit and review my past,
Recalling what l've done before.
I blame myself and feel aghast
How could my deeds land on that shore !

I look around and see my state
Which l have knit with my own hands.
Then l behold who find me great
Though l've brought them to such moor lands.

No one's obliged me but myself
To achieve or to come to none.
Now l can live great joy or grief,
Depending on what l have done.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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GOD WANTS A CLEAN HEART.

You wash your hands ere every meal.
That's good for health not for your heart.
God wants your heart always to feel
Forever pure and free from dirt.

The water that cleans earthly mud
Can't clean your stealth or will to hurt.
To have clean heart is will of God,
But ***** hands you can't support.

Thus Jesus said to those who cleaned
Their hands and after some time flogged
Him and round His cross they convened
And tore His clothes and them got rugged.

Don't kiss your mother's head when old,
But give her love that she does need.
To your clean heart bring her and fold
With no word that her heart can bleed.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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I WANT TO BE CLEAN.

How much l would like to go up
And wade through high clouds that are white.
I get so clean in heart and shape
And have a pure mind then to write.

I long to see my soul so pure
As dirt disturbs my heart and soul.
It instigates the sense of fear
And morale in me wastes its goal.

Clean clouds if l can't go to you
Change into fog and come to land.
I rush and wash in your clean dew
And dry myself with desert sand.

I'll do all just to be as clean
As angels in my Lord's pure sky.
Then l will have a tranquil brain
When down your cross l stand to cry.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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WHAT WAS IT ?

I wandered near the sea and looked
At what could calm my nerves and mind.
The sea was calm, the skyline great,
But my lost aim l could not find.

The sea could mean a lot to me
With its low waves and endless view,
But on that day, l could not see
The beauty lain in waves or hue.

I found no reason for my mood.
Nothing was wrong; the day was bright.
All around me was nice and good
But could not make me feel all right.

My heart was missing something odd
Which l felt deeply in my heart.
I could not meet it in this world
Or even just imagine what.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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