Oct 2014
I wasn’t there on the morning he arrived,
it all happened too quick, too early.
Receiving a child from God
mimics perfection,
a glimpse of Heaven for a time.
Michael was born imperfect
(we all are),
his illnesses overcame
the fight he put up
(with help from his doctors).
What comfort is there,
amidst imperfection,
surrounded by
false perfectionism?
What comfort is there?
He fought, but lost the battle.
He tried, and won the war.
For in perfectly appointed time,
he passed
from my arms
to the most perfect arms
of Jesus.
That is
perfect comfort.
it all happened too quick, too early.
Receiving a child from God
mimics perfection,
a glimpse of Heaven for a time.
Michael was born imperfect
(we all are),
his illnesses overcame
the fight he put up
(with help from his doctors).
What comfort is there,
amidst imperfection,
surrounded by
false perfectionism?
What comfort is there?
He fought, but lost the battle.
He tried, and won the war.
For in perfectly appointed time,
he passed
from my arms
to the most perfect arms
of Jesus.
That is
perfect comfort.
Today's poem for #OctPoWriMo is a very emotional one. Initially I wasn't going to go this direction with the prompts, but it came to me very suddenly. So I wrote. And quite possibly, I even shed a tear while writing. For those of you who know me, you know of the loss my wife and I suffered almost 15 years ago. Today's poem, guided by the prompts of perfection and imperfection, speaks to that loss.
Please enjoy.
Rod E. Kok
October 6, 2014
Please enjoy.
Rod E. Kok
October 6, 2014
