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Moomin Apr 2020
I hear of many gods, different and strange
People do what they say, and they're not sure why
Some are born with their family's god
Some mold their gods in their image
Many gods are demanding and aloof
Some gods require deprivation, others require ******
But my God is not like that
My God is not made in any image
Does not have many arms
Is not part animal, and is not a part of creation
He does not work in mysterious ways
My God is one
My God is neither male nor female, although He asks me to call him Father
My God does not ask me to dress a certain way,
or pray a certain way
or eat a certain food
or pray in a certain place
My God does not cause suffering, and He does not take children to be with Him
My God has a beautiful name, but very few people know it
My God hears me, and responds
He gives me wisdom, comfort, courage and hope
My God wants me to help others, not hurt them
He does not take sides in wars
My God invites all people to get to know him, whatever their religion, colour, age, race or ***
He is not confined by His own laws
Does not expect us to solve the world's problems, but has promised to intervene
My God always tells the truth
He hates suffering, and has promised to put an end to it forever
He promises to reverse all evil, and to bring my dead love ones back to life
My God will not let our earth die, because He made it for us
He is patient, kind and loving, and He wants me to be the same
My God knows the best way to live, and He has shown me how
He wants me to live forever
I think you would like my God, if you got to know him
Moomin Apr 2020
Some people lead, and decide what we need, they are sure and decisive and proud
Others tag along, in a compliant throng, they have to be part of the crowd
But there are those who are staid, because they are afraid, of the prospect of being despised
And so they withdraw, behind a safe door, and live in the shade all their lives    

She's alone and so tense, when school days commence, enduring the chaos she sees
The object of jest, ignored by the best, chosen last in the sporting decrees
She knows she's no belle and the spots really tell, as she stoops low to appear less tall
They see freckles and glass, they see a clumsy outcast, and an unfashionable scruff at the ball

Yet, away from the crowd, she sings sweetly and loud, tends animals in her kind way
She is loyal and wise, and does not despise, those less fortunate and in dismay
She is zealous and funny, and her smile always sunny, and her failings she does not try to hide
And if they cared to pry, and look into her eyes, they would see she is beautiful inside

There was another young girl, whose flame was unfurled, when she became woman at first
From pain of the past, to smashed looking glass, and the thought of a small breasted curse
With the world she contended, those she loved, she offended, till their love was exhausted and spent
Once lost from its sight, she could not do right, and spiralled, and twisted and bent

Yet, some could recall, when she was still small, and eager and funny and sweet,
when she used to run, to please everyone, and joyfully cuddle and greet
For this girl was true, and genuine through, and barren of pretense and pride
Yet most could not see, that, always was she, so innocent and beautiful inside    

This lad is not strong, and he has never belonged, to a gang or a club or a team
For stammer and blush, are easily crushed, by the boys who are considered the cream  
No sport and no game, no President's name, but the task of retrieving the ball
Dismissed and derided, by those that decided, that a man should be seven feet tall

But his mind is a place, where wonders take place, and brilliance comes to the fore
Pouring out words, and music unfurled, which causes the spirit to soar
When he sings, he's not slow, and his closest ones know, that his rare gift cannot be denied                
Though hidden away from the world's selfish gaze, his voice is so beautiful inside

And another is she, a mother of three, who's fleeting love has long disappeared
Yet the blame she will take, and guilt she can't shake, as she pauses her dreams for some years
Mistakes, she has made, and her children will pay, and gratitude she is denied
And she must run with the crowd, and pretend she is proud, when she really is dying inside

Had they known her, before sadness occurred, they would have seen trust and a friend
Unselfish and wise, swift to empathize, and never would her principles bend  
For she would have shone, a rare companion, one that would stand by their side
Through danger and despair, she'd always be there, because she is so beautiful inside  

He now lives alone, since his beloved passed on, taking with her his passion and pride
He still rises at dawn, though his work is long gone, and his home is so cluttered inside    
He dreads stepping out, where the young taunters shout, of his baldness, his stoop and his skin
In a world that thinks age, is a lonely dark cage, where you go when you're ready to give in

Yet stored in his mind, is a library in kind, that holds so much wisdom and lore
He found joy, and true love, searched for God up above, knowing peace, yet enduring a war
A father, a son, a hero when young, supporting the poor and the tired
Once loved and adored, by many who saw, the man who is beautiful inside

When we think of our friends, and what drew us to them, was it their job, their hobbies, their smile?
Or the music they chose, their hair or their clothes, or was it something we could not define?
Because we need to be sure, it was something more pure, something worth the investment of you
Cos, Good looks don't mean kind, and pretty fades with time, but loyalty will always hold true

For a good sense of fashion doesn't breed compassion, and a hot date can often cause burns
Bravado is fleeting, and self-confidence self defeating, and sarcasm often returns
Do we want fun, and affairs on the run, or are we really looking for more?
If not, then dig deep, and be ready to weep, for calamity stands at your door

For, when all's said and done, we fear being alone, and we fight for the souls that we choose
Whether kindness or cruel, the wise or the fool, with them we will win or we lose
And hope  settles down, and wanders around, searching for one who'll be kind
So don't settle for less, but administer this test, and see if they are beautiful inside
In loving memory of my sweet niece, Toni, who took her own life
Moomin Apr 2020
This world and life which we muddle through
Throws up those announced as heroes
Who's names engrave the rocks and halls
And speak of glories past
Yet accolades and power and art and fame
Are these enough to satisfy these hearts?
And what shall we, in our brief sojourn
Consider worthy of our thoughts and affections?
What gifts do giants us bequeath
That we should imitate their lives?
A Churchill, a Mozart, or Einstein's mind
Should we adore accomplishments done
As the legacy of humankind?
For never on our day of expiry
Would we regret a lost career
Nor count the missing sterile possessions
That clutter homes and hearts
But rather we would yearn for more
More moments spent in sweet embrace
With ones so precious and alive
Closer to these hearts are heroes found
Whose lives to posterity seem obscure
Yet offer glimpse of wonders in our soul
And trace that by which defines our goal
And so I recall the days of past
And soft familiar faces true
For what shall we, alone at last
Define the greatest human truth?
From cherry cheeks of childhood woes
To frailty and silver hair
With feet often entrenched in mire
Where struggle cannot free us for another step
Then weary, dusty, thirsty feet did trample many miles back home
Where soft warm arms and fires carressed our cares
Melting away the misery for one moment
They lost loves, endured wars, suffered sadness
Yet carried many through thunder and fear
Shared a bathtub full of tears
And faced the turbulent world as one
Despite poverty and pain
They danced and smiled
On the pleasant playground of seashores
Where shell and stone astound
We were mums and dads
Just like the real heroes we shared our lives with
We were friends
And we have learned so much
And gazed at glorious sun and moon
And bounced and leapt and touched the sky
And siezed a tiny piece of Heaven for our earth
For our short lives
Then drank summer's wine and winter's snowflakes
And tasted true life
For, because of them, we have found joy
Even among the bitterness
And ever shall we recall and rejoice
Because we were part of it all
Because we are
And above all other things
We have loved
Dedicated to the memory of my dear mum, who passed away last year
Moomin Apr 2020
To what kind of cosmos do I belong
And what pattern or value does it hold?
Among the nebulae and nova, strung upon the heavenly horizon
I see wonders and fearful conflicts arise and diminish
All the glory of light shatters the blank abyss
And stars I cannot behold are promised to be
Somewhere I may never tread
What kind of universe am I afloat within?
Does it know, or think, or care?
And what future has it in store for me
For sun and this pretty world?
Can it be a death, a memorial of glory dying?
Is it stretched to breaking point, and yearning to return to nothing?
Will it take me with it, on it's final journey?
As grey clouds mass gently above my brow
And drops caress my world with indifference
I wonder, about all things
And those that came before
Who gazed at skies and loved our moon
Who marveled at our star, yet feared it's wrath
And I ask myself
What difference does it make
Whether we were meant to be
Or whether we are not a thought?
Is this vastness a universe of despair
Where hope is vain and cruel
And unbridled power chooses planets and peoples?
Is this place so cold
Where there is no plan, no thought, no intention?
Are these hollow glories as cold as the barren planets
As empty as the lunar seas?
For if all is collide and collapse
And all patterns and platitudes meaningless and random
Then the greatest echo of the cosmos is sadness
Until all is no more
And time is spent and gone
Is it true?
Shall I weep for men, for earth, for stars?
What stays these tears?
It is the impossible, the unanswerable
The chorus of question and the fathom of joy
If this was meant to be
If light gives birth to life
And the universe gives birth to music
What more is to come?
There can be only one answer
Despair and destruction
Or design and deliverance
What do the stars tell me?
They whisper
A secret
They point the way

— The End —