"briskly" poems
54
If I should die,
And you should live—
And time should gurgle on—
And morn should beam—
And noon should burn—
As it has usual done—
If Birds should build as early
And Bees as bustling go—
One might depart at option
From enterprise below!
’Tis sweet to know that stocks will stand
When we with Daisies lie—
That Commerce will continue—
And Trades as briskly fly—
It makes the parting tranquil
And keeps the soul serene—
That gentlemen so sprightly
Conduct the pleasing scene!
58.2k
Briskly walking with his head *****
Money and treasure, he aims to get
He is in a stampede, chasing wealth
Acute shortage of ‘humility and gratitude’
Compels him to slaughter a multitude
The desire for more than enough
It has crystallized and made his heart tough
Oblivious about ‘humility and gratitude’
Man agrees to squash the destitute
Unaware, that he may face the same fate
Even then he piles up his plate
When would he be humble and grateful?
For the things which make his life blissful…
Even while swallowing all that is unlawful
He persistently denies being shameful
His conscience reminds him of ‘humility and gratitude’
But he refuses to change his haughty attitude
Let me remind you that life is temporary
Nothing in this world remains stationary
Just like dust your stay is transitory
These two traits, ‘humility and gratitude’
Can help you to acquire beatitude
Don’t forget your final abode
Where good deeds won’t be sold
Remember, the fables of the brave and the bold
All of them possessed ‘humility and gratitude’
From all this, you may conclude
It is the purity of our intentions
What Creator expects from his creation
Everything else is mere illusion
Being a human, demands ‘humility and gratitude’
Oct 24, 2010
Oct 24, 2010 at 7:27 AM UTC
Professor experienced was he.
Woke up in the morn asking tea.
Hurriedly bathed and brushed.
Towards steely almirah he rushed.
Couldn't decide which pant to wear.
Called wife to decide combing his hair.
Shirts were of different color and hue.
Mother came and chose color blue.
His father decided which tie he'll tie.
While he ate poori and aloo fry.
Couldn't decide which shoes were best.
Daughter chose brown and left the rest.
Couldn't decide 'tween bus and auto.
Son advised from auto he should go.
Entered class room briskly walking;
And taught 'Effective decision making.'
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 12:48 PM UTC
While briskly walking through a patch of weeds,
My eyes thought they had quickly been deceived,
For as I placed my foot down on the ground,
I saw a flower blooming all around.
A cherry blossom, bright and blooming free,
It’s beauty overflowed with joyous glee.
“How rare”, I said, “this really is a find”,
And then, I thought, what if the plant was mine?
And so, I picked her from her place unknown,
And brought her back to stay inside my home.
I kept her happy, for a while, it’s true.
What happened next always makes me so blue…
Her beauty, so divine, so unrestrained;
She captivated me, no effort made.
Her smell, on par with scents of those Greek gods,
To get my own Goddess, I beat the odds.
She brought me life and happiness, I was
Blessed to have her in my life because
There never was a blossom quite like her,
Such beauty could not spring from putrid earth….
And when she blossomed, I watched in dismay...
My Cherry Blossom fated not to stay.
I loved my flower truly, dearly so,
Her love and care gave me a place to go.
A prime example, perfect specimen,
Revitalizing my flat heart again.
My garden’s empty now, my shades are drawn,
I wish I’d smelled you once, before you’d gone.
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 5:50 PM UTC
In the West I learned western hospitality
Free spirit, free drugs, more ***** more love
If you can remember your problem your doing it wrong
But if you forget your responsibilities you're not worth much
Party everyday pretend you don't understand the methods of your madness
Walk the streets half naked in half a foot of snow
Party, study, party, study
party, party, party
CHURCH
repent and once it strikes midnight start again.
In the North I learned Northern hospitality
It's called minding your business
It's called I have to get somewhere
If you have a question you also have a smart phone
It's not my job to tell you the norm.
You'll figure it out
I learned to walk fast, speak briskly and tell everyone to mind their own business
In the South I learned Southern hospitality
It's where people talk nice to your face and ***** behind your back
It's where the idea of ownership has stemmed way before the monogram
It's where if they only have two faces they are genuine and where they'll feed you fresh apple pie
filled with arsenic
Where you can trust your neighbor only as far as you can throw them
Where everyone's a little racist, a little homophobic, a little god-fearing
In the South I learned
Hospitality
--------------------------------------------------------
A/N
I was born and raised in Denver, Colorado.
Currently I reside in North Carolina.
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 4:54 PM UTC
As I rushed home, I thought about
The last thing that I'd read
"Can we go out to fly my kite?
Before I go to bed."
A text was sent by my young son
To go and fly his kite
I texted back "no problem son,"
"We'll go do that tonight"
Once I got home, I went to change
And he changed his clothes too
The sun was still up shining
And the kite would help the view
The wind was blowing briskly
Just enough to fly it right
And if others were out flying too
It would really be a sight
I told my son, to dress up warm
For the wind did hold a chill
But, flying kites with my young boy
Well, it gave my heart a thrill
He gathered up his kite
And then he raced me to the door
I picked up my hat that had
Been knocked upon the floor
He raced me up the street as we
made our way out to the park
He wanted to be first
to get there before it did get dark
He held his kite so tightly,
I myself thought it would break
It was a black and golden box kite
With a tail just like a snake
We bought it up in Chinatown
At a little antique shop
When the wind hit it just perfect
It would just hover and then stop
Of all the kites he owned
This was his favorite one
I think it was his favorite
Because it danced beneath the sun.
We got there, I let out the string
And I got it in the air
And once it became airborne
I tied it to his chair
My son, can't hold the kite string
Can't control the way it flies
He's confined to his blue wheelchair
Until the day he dies
He controls it with his finger
Races all around the place
And when we get out flying kites
There's such a smile on his face
He backs it up, the kite responds
Flying high up in the sky
"i wish that I could be that free"
"I wish that I could fly"
"One day son, you will be free"
"You'll be as mobile as that kite
You'll be moving like you used to do
"On your feet, you'll be so light"
He was injured in an accident
But, that's not here nor there,
He was hit by a drunk driver
He was too **** drunk to care
But for now, my boy is smiling
We're out flying kites at night
And as long as we're toghether
Then our world is still all right.
May 1, 2012
May 1, 2012 at 7:40 PM UTC
Wild splashes of beaming
Azure brushing back and forth
Tottering briskly on granite rocks
Enlightening excitement to our eyes
Radiance of teal drops sprinkle salt
Follicles misting up the atmosphere
Activating a rushing rippling of waves
Lashing playfully with each other
Looping to a sensational surprise
Apr 5, 2022
Apr 5, 2022 at 3:48 PM UTC
ARTERY CONFESSION.
_Her love to me is like moon light, on a starry night._
As rising sun at dhawn. Like vine planted on his heart's yard. _which he ought to water to flowery_ _And fruitage._
his love for her is as deep as the dept of an ocean, _with the fishes abiding therein,_ _as stars, moon,_ and the sun adhered to the sky, it never
departed away from her side.
_his love to her can simply easily be compared to_ _GOD's towards mankind._
So he confessed and rendered his heart to her. _Like a teeming downpour upon earthen soften, it surface._
so her love compassed his heart comforting, _like pabulum to mind._
As light rays to eye sight. His love for her is reality only can be told in tale of their love story,
_gory to glory._ _He so_
Much love her and
really ready,
_in for her, fell in the water._
Lost and found with her for ever. _He wish he could wash her feet wilt the waters of his soul, cleansing her heart._
because he see her heart compatible to his.
_Remembered old days of midnight calls, they never used to give sleep to their eyes._ While talk through night, dusk till dawn,
_Remembered promises and all the pain they both had gone through heaven and hell._
*Never forgot the only first day he felt the fullness of her ******* _how sooth her heart. Tongue on tongue, mouthy pleasure._
His hands on her curves. Briskly remembered she _told him that after her_
momma he be next to her.
_She call him dad he call her Mami._ Before she demised his mama used to asked about his lady. His homies do too.
_His young blood can't either forget her memories,_
last night he was asked about her, oh sweetness
_is all about thee._ _Can't forget_
her, _he always craves_ her. All he ever wanted and desires are all found in her, his boo. _He truly loves her because he knew she'd make a good mother,_
Hope she'd understand if he change sometimes just only because he never own everythang as his. _So remember he always told her_
that he will always be there for her as time,
_even in the world after here._ _Her love is so good to him_
She has the key to his heart.
_reminisce she told him she'd_
_rather die for him than sleeping at someone else side._
She's his inspiration like a transportation, his motivation only she can help build his cloud nation. _His aspiration_
all is found in her, _all in ONE no one else but she._
She source the past time joy and still the reason _for today's and the hope_
of tomorrow's glee.
Sacrifice his love for her because he believes in future with her, she's his destiny his fate mate his ruth, his batsheba,
_His mary, his eve and soulmate._
#c9_fm
Feb 9, 2021
Feb 9, 2021 at 4:26 AM UTC
city in ruins
acid green night sky
flames in skyscraper windows
the flakes of ashes
filtering the staunch air
if you breathe in you can
taste the souls of the dearly
& painfully departed
I roamed the underground
silent subway system
in search of an easy ****
long black coat trailing my
fast-paced footfalls
dried blood smeared on a
restroom door
the smell no longer made
me sick
I throw it open
& step inside
the room reeked of
sweat and vile
death
the hair rose on my skin
as I faced the mirror
to greet my weary, shadowy-eyed
reflection
it was then that I saw the
pair of yellow eyes
watching me
& before either of us
could blink
I hurled my dagger at
the corner ceiling above the
empty stalls
spearing the small winged
demon
it fell to the floor in a heap
of rotting dust
there was no time for me
to react
when a figure burst through
the doorway
a dark-skinned girl with
long braids
who didn't catch my gaze
as she slammed her
purse on the filthy counter top
& began to apply her
makeup
"What are you doing here?"
I asked the young woman
stunned at her nonchalance
she never once stopped
moving the pink brush against
her skin
"Gotta go to work,"
she said briskly
as if the whole doomsday planet
was a waste of her
time
I had forgotten there were still
people living in
hell
who bothered to look
pretty
I said no more
& went on my
way
May 21, 2012
May 21, 2012 at 5:27 PM UTC
....................terrorism......................
I Opened my window and peeped through.
Heard the loud panicked voice of screams.
Just I saw the world of dreams.
People were shouting'crying'runing here and there.
Destructions and dreadful scenes seemed everywhere.
Streets were covered with huge blood.
Just like I lost in terrific flood.
Dark smoke raised over the sky.
War jets and gaints were so high.
When i glanced all the round.
And didn't believe what I found.
Street lights were broken and dim.
Everywhere laid down the corpses of muslim.
Muslim children and muslim babies.
Their white shrouds turned into red.
War jets bombed,killed,left crippled & then briskly fled.
Only innocent people were on their list.
People were wraping them and taking away by cist.
My eyes burst into tears.
By the thought of terrorism whom everybody fears.
The thousands of people are now lifeless.
And remained so helpless.
Taken away the poor children's future brightness.
with War,conflicts,disputes and violent fray.
Unjustly killed so many people also by slaughter and slay.
Everything for them is just like a game to play.
By the war demons everywhere,everybody is sad & depressed.
Why Only innocent people are being harassed & oppressed?
Violences and wars only left miseries and sorrow.
Nobody can imagin what will happen tomarrow.
that's such a big shame.
blaming only muslims and giving them terrorist name.
Why the Muslims are only labeled of terrorism and extremism?
Come and recognise the real face of terrorism.
In the name of religion why people usually fight?
open their eyes and turn them from darkness to light .
Terrorism has no place in Islamic religion.
It teaches the supreme wisdom with real vision.
I pray when will come in this world that day.
One person will unite the world and bring peace oneday..
.............
((((By shaffu))))
Alhamdulillah I am a muslim but not a terrorist.
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 11:48 AM UTC
Words briskly picked
from the fruits of your memoirs,
galloping air you forcibly breathe
the music you hear, the colours you see.
the hymns you appreciate,
shows traces of wonderland,
the hints and pieces
ah, superficial paradise.
Now you tell me stories
I'd ought to focus and listen,
As I see the snap of your fingers
Loud words and Whispers,
vines and wrapped my heart
without any given reasons,
you provoke and attest,
Your hideous mission.
to capture and get,
Slaved by your intentions,
with peace and love,
through your life lessons.
You've given grip
through friendship and company.
I will raise this glass
for our uncharted destiny.
Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 6:11 AM UTC
Come walk with me a mile...
Walk on without our burden’s weighty shoes,
warily trudging over the long rocky pathway
a lifetime in my soul.
A final edifying voyage to freedom.
The winds of change are blowing briskly
as we walk charily over the long and narrowing
rock-strewn passageway.
I shed these boots and skin, no longer fitting
my scared, blistered and callused soles.
As time slowly passes,
this craggy passage has evolved
from a two-way trail,
into one-way jagged forage…
Standing barefooted and naked on rocky ground,
dark sunken sleepless eyes scan
the rolling vista as the wind blows
dust from the halo around the sun,
blurring the delicate wispy cirrus clouds.
The sun’s radiance paints frozen ice crystal azure
into a vivid aura of prisms’ brilliant corona.
Kaleidoscope rainbows adorn the closest of solar stars.
There's something in the ethereal air
that leaves my soul unsettled,
grasping for an evocative stability
trying to understand the silenced voices
crying out within…
The pain and suffering has vanished
as if the body and soul have separated,
numbness from the ache of longing,
severed nerves, callused fears
ruptured on serrated rocky edges,
deadened useless flesh cut to the bone
by misjudged obstacles encountered enduringly.
The barefooted spirit courses on,
suffused in the solar spectrum’s dust;
yearning, longing to saunter
above and beyond the bloated feathery pillows;
cumulus clouds finally resting at peace.
Dipping heart's lesions and these benumbed toes
into a healing balm
from the bowers of bliss..
An unfinished life
an open ended dream,
reluctantly waking to take the last ,
surrendering steps beyond the threshold...
A long and winding rocky journey’s destiny
draws near
The halo around the moon
illuminates an understanding firmament;
the celestial sphere’s
pending imminent soulful rain awaits
the metamorphosis at the brink of dawn.
A shower of heaven's rain
shall mourn the loss of flesh form
as the spirit of an untamed soul lives on,
barefooted,
naked and free
like the dust in the wind
absorbed eternally...
2011 © harlon rivers
all rights reserved
Aug 17, 2016
Aug 17, 2016 at 11:16 AM UTC
In times of clarity, or perhaps
Moments of weakness
(Depending on one's perspective)
My greatest fear, I think,
Is that of dying without achieving
Anything worthy of mention.
The idea of being so ordinary
That your death
(or rather, your life)
Will be rapidly evaporated
from the earth's memory
Like light rain on a molten tarmac afternoon.
But you, at least on a mentally strong day,
Delude yourself with bursts of creativity:
Poetry, film, ideas of grandeur,
All of which persuade you that either
You will not die for a long time,
Or you will someday soon achieve.
This thought is comforting
And all is well.
Until one day you are having
A particularly busy teaching day,
And you rush to the usual spot
To grab a regular taste of Dublin life,
And order your chicken fillet roll:
Lifeblood of an Irish working-man's lunch,
And you eat while you walk -
Both briskly to save time before
Rejoining the rich children.
And the slobbering mouthful of
Delightful chicken baguette
Casts taco sauce from its grasp,
And dribbles down your pubey beard.
You stop and take a finger to it,
Knowing full well that the damage is
Done and that those hairs will grip
To the smell of taco sauce until
The drain tastes their defeat after
A particularly overzealous shower.
And it is in that moment,
With finger and beard stained with
The orange-tinged blood of a chicken fillet roll,
That your ordinariness and worthlessness become apparent
And it destroys you...
Because you always thought taco sauce was spicy.
Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 5:52 PM UTC
God’s desire
Is no more
Than that of
A primate
The nature of
His call
Priesthood
The clergy
Is utterly
Cemented in place
And it claims
It is molding
I laugh at
This as I
briskly walk
on the sidewalk
I trip and
Nearly fall
I laugh
At that
too
Sep 12, 2010
Sep 12, 2010 at 4:52 PM UTC
The mine shaft’s gaping mouth
yawns like the throat of an old, useless god.
Gnats hover by the scattered rocks.
This is real not a set, or a scene,
a spit of dirt shot through the sluice, all things like
a picture cut to kiss my America expectation.
In the surrounding bush, tamaracks curve towards the clouds.
The clouds where, above the furry tips of conifers, cataracts
plummet down mountainwalls, and ask:
“afraid?” And I am, I am. I fear the sheer
slopes of tough granite slashing the giant sky
in two; the hard-edged mountain face. The expansive air.
And this split is brooding old and unknowable
tunneling briskly into the unfamiliar, bruising
Montana a grisly purple-red
when the sun swings underground
and shades the hot **** by the mine with cool night as
behind it, the mine appears to growl.
Feb 1, 2010
Feb 1, 2010 at 9:09 PM UTC
Lizard, peerless strategist,
calculating well, sprung on the spider;
the eight legged acrobat, escaped
sliding down briskly on her web.
Apr 23, 2012
Apr 23, 2012 at 8:29 AM UTC
Vivid thoughts of you keep revealing themselves as expeditious memories.
How idiotic of me not to appreciate the time shared because I assumed the pleasure was in your company not for your presence but how the thought of your imminent arrival forced a smile before you even entered the building.
How seconds were lifetimes yet minutes briskly swept by.
Time was our birthright and our only luxury, it was also a curse we couldn't shake off like a birthmark at the centre of my forehead.
Please believe me when I say I recite your name daily yet I find myself cursing at the sky because no matter how valiant my effort. I feel it slowly taking away the little I still have of you.
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 5:06 PM UTC
The snow was blowing among the trees. In large wet flakes it tumbled down.
My captain turned, as if to speak, but from his lips there came no sound.
A red rose bloomed there on his chest -staining dark the Wehrmacht grey.
I looked in horror as he pitched face forward to the ground.
****** I yelled and ducked for cover. The copse of trees echoed the sound.
Somewhere out there he awaits; the Devil’s son, the cunning foe.
He’s stalked our party for three days yet leaves no footprints in the snow.
I served in France in Forty –one; before these Russians were our foes.
I shiver but it’s not from fear; it’s just that we lack winter clothes.
I motion briskly with my right hand, I think the shooter must be there
my corporal nods and starts to move; perhaps he can outflank this man.
My soul is black for I’ve done some things;
for which I once would have been ashamed.
I saw the Jewess try to shield her babe
as I placed them in a common grave.
This man out there, a warrior; he risks his life upon command.
He is clever, this one, he waits his chance.
Either its him or me that’s dammed.
The drifting snowflakes hide his breath.
But He’s still out there this I know.
My Captain lies still upon the earth
and is slowly covered by the snow.
We are soldiers who risk our lives.
We sacrifice for the Fatherland.
We dream of a woman and a warm bed
Never of Death’s cold clammy hand
My men cry out, the fox is flushed
The ****** has at last been found.
It’s true what they say of the bullet that kills you;
I never even heard the sound.
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 10:17 PM UTC
Honey-sweet blasphemy, touch like ****** poetry
Scratches, bites and ecstasy - look at what you do to me!
Sweet Devil, my love
Sweet Devil above
Sweet Devil below, come unto me
Sweet Devil , oh my
Sweet Devil, so fine
Sweet Devil, are you in love with me?
Feline, non-divine, I love the way I make you shine!
Kiss me briskly, you frisky little ***** of mine!
Sweet Devil my love
Sweet Devil above
Sweet Devil below, come unto me
Sweet Devil , oh my
Sweet Devil, so fine
Sweet Devil, are you in love with me?
Bloodstains on my bedsheets
Clawmarks in my back
You're a savage - I'm a beast
Have you ever been ****** like that?
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 7:17 PM UTC
I woke ahead of the morning,
for reasons I hardly know.
I clad myself in fancy clothes
but for reasons I hardly know.
I put on a tie - attempted a knot
but failed as I waste more time.
I look at my clock, I look at my watch,
Wonder why it did not chime.
I gulp a steaming cup of espresso,
a shot of adrenaline pumped briskly,
I took my phone, dashed out quickly,
I then forgot my keys.
Found them seep in between the couch,
I had to sweat it out.
Crumpled shirt and an unbalanced tie
I foresee a morning shout.
I ignore a typical Monday dusk,
as I put on my cotton socks,
Slipped my toes into my brogues,
I took one last look at the clock.
I still had time, it is still early,
Perhaps a cigarette before I drive,
I lit one up, minty inhale,
the sun has started to rise.
I rushed in the car, started the engine,
and put my gear to reverse.
I zoom right out my greasy gate,
My tires, all four of them, bursts.
I took one look in the mirror,
I knew it's down the drain,
I might as well call in sick,
and tell my boss it's the rain.
Who would believe that all four tires,
would deflate so quickly at once?
It sounds like a bad joke by a bad comedian,
not believable - like a very bad pun.
I took one last look at my watch,
It's way past 'possible' o-clock.
I left the car to fend for itself,
I went into the house without my socks.
I jumped right back into my silky bed,
happy to see my five pillows.
I am not excited it's the start of the week,
but Tuesday can never be this mellow.
I shut the window, pulled the blinds,
Sleep deprived made me berserk.
"Mundane Monday", "Monday blues",
Whatever...you're the one at work.
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 9:29 AM UTC
Who's that leopard in ecstasy
(and Ampersand Cornelius Gray)
who learned to trot briskly under lamp poles
and rescue a ***** worn mug from the clay
that which bore them.
She signaled with a passing glance that the entrenchment should pass,
giggling eyes that sparkled from pearls and concrete teeth.
I pivoted on the unmoving coordinates, the universe revolved.
From within her a spirit rose up and clasped my face in its hands,
and I, red with terror, dove head first towards the sands.
He howls out, burdened.
He is unaware of my condition, beneath the waters;
here I lie in wait,
too, in weight.
Here I lie
beneath the crushing force of the universe.
On the bottom of the sea, the top of the Earth,
a smokestack, of golden flames, fills my heart,
rumbling, confident and unafraid.
The Leopard sits, its paws splayed out on a bed of ferns.
Upon its raised position, it lies, basked in ethereal warm light.
The fierce awe of strength and knives of metal,
racing above ground on knees of silent, yellowed corduroy.
Who waits with the Leopard, alone and cold?
Who knows the beast the captures my wonder?
Here I lie, in servitude, enslaved in my claw cave.
My paws are pale, in this oddly worn nave.
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 4:17 PM UTC
On my pillow in broken English
And black ink.
A Fitzgerald quote dances in the breeze of the half-cracked window.
The clothes outside dangle
Hot and crisp from the City’s sun.
This city has its own sun
That beats down hard
Against the pavement.
Hearts beating hard
against the pavement
Of our souls and ribs.
If Fitzgerald was right
Then“they slipped briskly
into an intimacy
from which they never
recovered.”
Slipped and
fell.
Scars stain our hearts
And knees burn
Like the sun beats down
On the pavement
Of our memories.
But then again,
Perhaps it was Keats that had it right-
BOLD lover-
“Heard melodies are sweet
But those unheard are sweeter.”
Like you in my sweater.
Ode in a Spanish email
Plays on repeat,
Trapped in my head.
It’s that song that keeps be writing
About you
In this little book
Trapped in this little book
Like the etchings Keats admired
Trapped in the moment before
Their first kiss.
Forever trapped,
Lingering in their longing.
I’ll lick the wounds
Of paper cuts
From quickly turned pages
The sour blood of this longing
Tormented by time
“Heard melodies are sweet
But those unheard are sweeter”
Like a nagging child
Taunting-
Thumbs in ears,
Tongue out.
I wish my skin was sewn together
With the threads of that sweater
So you could wear me
Again
and
again.
Sep 1, 2020
Sep 1, 2020 at 10:13 AM UTC
As the knock came on the door, He laid down the Book,carefully. Grasped both arms of the chair, firmly and briskly pushed himself to the STANDING position. The knocks repeated themselves and the man Leaned over, ever so gently, and Lowered himself onto his wheel chair, and Called out LOUDLY, "COMING,,,,COMING " The knocks were continuing, even more intensely , as he gripped the edges of the Wheels and pushed himself Forward,, with ALL his Might ! ! "COMING,,,,COMING" He Repeated ! His strength had so waned in the last few weeks, that the very effort of pushing with all HIS might, Only propelled him forward a Very Few Inches at a Time ! ! The Knocks were even Louder Now ! and more Frequent..... He was sweating Profusely as he gritted his teeth and struggled with the wheel chair, in His effort to reach the door. It seemed like He moved forward in * SLOW-MOTION*, GOD____ how he wanted to reach the Door ! His groans were now growing Louder as he attempted with with his most Valiant effort, to reach the Door from which the Pounding seemed to be UNCEASING ! "COMING,,,,COMING" he echoed thru the hallway in his Exhausted state, "Please Wait, I'm Coming" he Pleaded , as the Knocking continued at a Rapid pace ! With each Inch of Forward Movement, He felt he just couldn't go on any further, BUT, The Repeating sounds of the Knocks Kept him on His QUEST! Near Collapse as he reached the Door, He slowly extended his arm, wrapped his hand , pouring wet with sweat, around the Door **** and with ALL of the strength He had Left,____he TURNED the **** and Opened the Door ! ! The Flashing White brightness , Never seen before or even able to describe, Enveloped His Whole Body ! As he felt Himself being Lifted from the chair, placed gently and firmly on his feet! The Light now became A SOURCE OF GREAT COMFORT, and as it grasped his hands, He heard a "Comforting " Voice say to him "COME, WALK AND FOLLOW ME" ...........
Feb 23, 2011
Feb 23, 2011 at 3:40 AM UTC