Lemonade

A bag of lemons, dumped
Unceremoniously
In your lap.

A lesser man would have despaired.
Raged, perhaps.
And yet, you laughed.

Even while we stood watching,
Mouths agape, silently cursing,
You laughed.

We wondered at your courage,
What reason you had,
And then you spoke.

You pointed, and finally
We understood.
We saw what you saw.

There, beyond where
The rest of us focused
Stood a bag of sugar.

You didn't see lemons,
You saw ingredients.
You saw people.

Life gave you lemons,
You served us lemonade.
You served life lemonade.

Three feet of ice and cold

Three feet of ice won't form

In one night's autumn chill,
But builds through all December's cruel freeze.

Three feet of snow won't thaw

In winter's fleeting day,
But melts away in April's gentle breeze.

Three feet of snow won’t fall

In flurries light and sparse,
But gathers over storm and crippling storm.

Three feet of ice won’t break

In moonlight pale and wan,
But cracks apart in sunlight soft and warm.

It was comfortable

It made a Box and It sat in it.
It was comfortable—for a little bit.
But then It grew.

The Box became too small.
It was suffocating.

It cried for help. Silently.

As if afraid to be heard.

Yet still hoping. Daring.

Daring to hope.

But Something did hear It.

Something tore. It scratched.

The Box was no more.

Something and It smiled at the Not-Box.

They looked up.

They smiled some more.

But It looked back at the Not-Box.

More and more It looked.

Then the Not-Box became.

It made a Not-Box and It sat in it.

It was comfortable—for a little bit.

But then It remembered Something. It cries.

Libra

Upon this scale my life is weighed:
A scale on which my deeds are laid,
A scale to which there’s no compare,
A scale to which my heart is near,
But ever leaving me dismayed.

Often I find myself afraid
To stand on it, and feel betrayed
By judgment given, so unfair,
Upon this scale.

From bad to worse the needle swayed,
Each reading glaringly displayed,
Never accounting all’s that fair,
But taking note each time I err,
And still I stand each day, unswayed
Upon this scale.

Remembrance

On this day in 1918, what was the worst war the world had ever seen finally came to an end. Today, 93 years later, do we still remember what happened? Do we still appreciate the sacrifices which paved the way for us to become who we are?

Today, let us honour those who served so bravely for God, for country, and for liberty. And perhaps, as they look on, and see that we still remember, they may yet rest in peace.

"If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields." ~ John McCrae

 Lest we forget.

A House Divided Cannot Stand

A house divided cannot stand,
It crumbles, shattered from within;
A house is torn by inner hand.

Wise are the ones who understand
The good old adage which has been:
A house divided cannot stand.

And if there be grave reprimand
From those of nearest kin, it's then
A house is torn by inner hand.

From history we learned firsthand,
And from the past we've duly seen
A house divided cannot stand.

When spars and quarrels take command,
When sanity is wearing thin,
A house is torn by inner hand.

A fragile mind cannot withstand
Both thought of good and urge to sin;
A house divided cannot stand,
A house is torn by inner hand.

5 November 2011

Erosion

A gentle tide crashes the jagged shore,
Smoothing out edges left by tempests past,
Yet carving out anew—along the vast
Complex coast—jagged faces, more and more.
The waves work with a deadly silent roar...
From the surface rocks protrude and cast
An evil shadow, exposing at last
A demon deep within a hardened core.

Feast, waters, feast! upon this stony land,
'Til all the ground is but fine grains of sand,
Then carry thou this devil's work to sea,
To lands beyond that which mine eyes can see;
And as old landscapes slowly fade away,
May new ones build with every passing day.

29 October 2011