Tag Archives: Hope

Where Peace Is Found

The prompt today at dVerse Poets Pub is to write about something that is part of our every day life. I could have written about any number of things, but decided to write about prayer.

Where Peace Is Found

Kneeling here
elbows leaning on my soft footstool
head in my hands
I find peace

Reading Psalms
thoughts leaning on God’s promises
Bible in my hands
I find peace

Praising God
soul leaning on my sweet Jesus
heart in His hands
I find peace

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Nothing to Fear

There’s nothing to fear but fear itself

and bears if you’re in Yellowstone
loneliness if you’re all alone

failure if your theory is flawed
sickness and death if you don’t know God

Yet if God is on your side
there’s nothing to fear
just trust and abide

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You Can’t Go Back to Tuesday

I’m working on my book proposal today. I posted the draft Prologue last week. I’m determined to finish the proposal this week so an editor friend can review it before I submit it to the publishing house editor who requested it at the Faith & Culture Writers Conference. I had a breakthrough this week when I realized the Chapter 1 I’d drafted started in the wrong place. This is the beginning of the new Chapter 1.

I’m planning to include a poem on the title page of each chapter. The poem for this chapter is one I wrote a week after the events recounted here.

You Can’t Go Back to Tuesday

Last Breath

Breathing
in, out again
no other sound so dear
except if you spoke, one more time,
I’d hear.

I sat in that suffocating little room with my sister Suz, my brother-in-law Dick, and the shell of my sister Peggy. When I had arrived earlier in the day I wouldn’t have known it was her in the bed if Suz hadn’t also been there. I hadn’t seen Dick in 28 years; he’d changed, kind of looked like Grizzly Adams after a month in the woods alone.

And Peggy, she didn’t look like anyone I knew. The last time I’d seen her she didn’t look too bad. She admitted the cancer was back, but she covered up how bad it was pretty well. And she had been hopeful, ready to fight and win again. But she wasn’t going to win this time—she would breathe her last in that tiny, sterile room with just the three of us there.

I’d woken up that morning with plans to go to the dentist in the morning—even though I was dreading it—and then in for my annual mammogram and breast MRI. On Friday I was going to go visit Peggy in the hospital. I was told she’d probably be feeling better by then.

But Suz called early that morning and said Peggy had taken a turn for the worse. “You should come as soon as you can. Dick said she was pretty bad.”

I called my cousin Noryce to tell her what was going on with Peggy and to just talk. Noryce always has good advice and knows just what to say.

“I don’t know what to do. I have these two appointments I have to keep, but I want to go see Peggy. Maybe I can just wait until tomorrow to go,” I said. “I should have just gone to see her on Tuesday.”

Noryce, in her infinite wisdom, replies, “You can’t go back to Tuesday. What are you going to do today? What’s the worst that could happen if you cancel your appointments and go? What if you wait to go until tomorrow and she’s already gone?”

She knows the story of when my dad died and I wasn’t there. He had called me and said, “Come see me.” But it cost money to fly to Desert Hot Springs where he was and we didn’t have a lot of money at the time. So I bought an inexpensive ticket for two weeks out. He died a week later. I will always regret that decision.

So I called the dentist to cancel my appointment, worried that they would be upset and charge me for the appointment anyway. “Don’t worry about it. Go see your sister. Give us a call when you’re ready to reschedule.”

Then I called the hospital to cancel my mammogram and breast MRI. They were even more understanding given that my sister was dying of breast cancer. I don’t know why I was afraid they wouldn’t be.

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Courageous

The prompt at dVerse Poets Pub today is to write using antithesis. Bjorn asks us to use contrasting terms to encompass the real truth of the matter as we live in a world both black and white at the same time. As the topic of fear and courage have been much on my mind lately, I immediately thought of the antithesis of feeling fear while having faith. This is how we can be courageous.

Courageous

The giants tower above me
menacing and cruel
I tremble in faith
Stand resolutely with fear

The waves crash down upon me
mighty and powerful
I  shudder in faith
Rise unflinchingly with fear

The enemy surrounds me
threatening and heartless
I cringe in faith
Prevail triumphantly with fear

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The Bridge You Built

The prompt for Day 28 of NaPoWriMo is to write about bridges, either real, imaginary, or metaphorical. I decided to write about my favorite bridge.

The Bridge You Built

The ravine between me and  You
is deep and wide and long
I pine here on the far side
quite enchanted by Your song

I have no way to get across
to rest peacefully where You are
I cannot even go around
the journey’s much too far

So You built a bridge for me
You stretched Your arms out wide
So when it’s time for me to cross
I will rest eternally on the other side

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Nepal

The Day 27 prompt at the NaPoWriMo site is to write a hay(na)ku, another short form poem I’ve never heard of. But I do love short form poetry, especially in the final days of a 30-day poetry challenge. Here’s my timely poem, a hay(na)ku time seven.

Nepal

Pray
for Nepal
earth is quaking

Pray
for Nepal
dead and dying

Pray
for Nepal
temples all destroyed

Pray
for Nepal
may heaven rescue

Pray
for Nepal
send aid workers

Pray
for Nepal
hearts are broken

Pray
for Nepal
may God rebuild

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A Conversation with My Fearful Self

This poem was inspired by the April 16 prompt from The Daily Poet by Kelli Russell Agodon & Martha Silano. The prompt was to write a conversational poem in which alternating stanzas were two speakers in a conversation. I decided to write a conversation with myself.

A Conversation with My Fearful Self

I can’t wait for the conference
It’s going to be so much fun
I’m so glad Ginger wants to go with me
I’ll text her about picking her up and
see what she wants from Kyra’s Bakery

Ginger hasn’t texted me back
I’ll bet she doesn’t even want to go
to the conference with me at all

What? Ginger does so want to go
to the conference with you
She is just as excited about it as you
I’ll bet she just didn’t see your text

It’s been two days, of course she has
I’ll bet she hasn’t answered
because she’s trying to figure out
how to get out of going

That’s ridiculous! You know she wants to go
I’m sure she’s just been busy
or the text got buried
amongst a bunch of other texts
and she didn’t even see it

I’m just sure she doesn’t want to go
At least not with me
She’s probably trying to find
someone else to go with

Enough of that nonsense!
Just email her and ask

Fine, I’ll email her
but she won’t answer my email either

See, I told you so
Ginger emailed you back
and the only reason she didn’t answer before
is because she couldn’t decide
what kind of cupcake she wanted

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Giving up Fear

Over at dVerse Poets Pub today, Abhra has challenged us to write letter poems. I had someone specific in mind when I wrote this, but there are so many people I know who live with unnecessary fear and anxiety that it could easily be an open letter to them all. The final stanza is a reference to Philippians 4:6-7.

Giving up Fear

I learned of your anxiety
This news I’m sad to hear
I long ago was in your shoes
Crippled by my fear

You daren’t go out on the town
Lest the fear cause you to take cover
Even to celebrate with friends
Is a challenge, you discover

Yet “Do not fear” the Lord has said
He longs to keep you near
Trust in Him to care for you
Give to Him every fear

With petition and thanksgiving
Each care and worry release
As I have experienced so can you
He’ll grant you abundant peace

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The Sound and the Silence

Deafening
Hammer on nails
Pounding pounding pounding
A tear falls

Deafening
Jeers and insults
Taunting taunting taunting
A prayer replies

Deafening
Darkness and earthquake
Trembling trembling trembling
A price is paid

And then silence

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A Beautiful Sacrifice

Over at dVerse Poets Pub, Mary challenges to write about beauty. With Good Friday and Easter on the horizon, I decided to write about the most beautiful sacrifice in all of history.

A Beautiful Sacrifice

It is an ugly scene

A naked man with bloody hands and feet
hangs upon an instrument of torture
sharp thorns jammed into his forehead
blood dripping down his face
sweat covering his body

He weeps
not for himself, but for the mockers
spitting at him
taunting and jeering
casting lots for his clothing
knowing not what they do

He cries out in agony yet
intercedes for those who hate him
prays they be forgiven, that we be forgiven
He atones, redeems, sets free
loves in a way we cannot fully comprehend

It is a beautiful scene
It is a beautiful sacrifice of love

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