This morning, out my windowsill
was a vibrant cardinal resting tranquil and still,
sitting on a limb with solace and halcyon calm,
singing a soothingly mellifluous song,
all of a sudden, emotions flooded upon me,
a nostalgic moment, from when I was young,
years upon years ago,
my grandmothers making breakfast,
my grandfather, reading the paper across from me,
in good health, laughing,
we're both content as can be,
there, just for a moment, we're together again
every time I see a cardinal now, I think of him
my own warm, sweet memories
from a simpler time, now intertwined

Grant thee a voice to write,  
A blueprint to imprint.  

Bestow thee a script,  
To inscribe with wisdom’s grip.  

Permit thee a spark,  
To blaze through the dark.  

Inspire thee with grace,  
To shine in time and space.

My eyes seek Thee in restless despair,  
Through tempests wild, through hollow air.
O’ guiding flame in twilight deep,
Awake my soul, from sorrow’s sleep.

Show me Thy glimpse, if only a stare,
A spark of hope, a breath of prayer.
O’ Keeper of life, my heart’s lone plea,
Shine forth Thy grace, come set me free.

Thou art the faith I cherish and adore,
The silent hush, the thunder’s roar.
Dwell in my heart, take root in my soul,
Mend these fragments, make me whole.

Through shadowed vales and boundless night,
Thy whisper calls, a song of light.
No tear may fall, nor spirit break,
Where love endures and dawn doth wake.

Thy presence is all my soul doth crave,
To walk with Thee, steadfast and brave.
Come to my solitude—my heart to save,
Lift me from darkness, my soul to pave

We all have been labeled,
Tossed our dirt, around a table,
On our journey, to our final day,
We think about our past,
Times, we thought would last,
Those, who helped guide us,
When our soul, was low on gas,
Call them special angels,
When they come around,
They share ideas, and thoughts,
To guide us, help us pass the situation,
Holding us down.

                                                          ­                                  
                              ­                   The original: Tom Maxwell 3/6/20/25 AD

The LIGHTHOUSE 
BEAMS out a
 BEACON OF LIGHT,
 to direct SHIPS and  MARINERS
during the 
DARKENED NIGHT. 
It helps to GUIDE THEM,
and gives 
 NAVIGATION,
On the SEAS, for the SHIPS 
to their FINAL DESTINATIONS.
This POEM, that I write 
is said to BE TRUE.
We are just like these SHIPS, 
we need GUIDANCE TOO.


B.R.
Date: 07/3/2023

Speaking guides
Silent kills
~
Guidance speaks
**** silence  


Killing guidance
Speak silent
~
Unguided killer
Silently unspeakable