There is a light beyond –
The storm clouds that rock our days
Viral infections, political deflections,
And a system used to its bad old ways
But there are those who join together in heart
Considering the many and not just the few
Who their own comforts are willing to set aside
For it is the right thing for them to do
Whether heeding a lock down
Or calling a wrong a wrong; we will find a way
To see the rainbow of hope appear
And with it push the storm clouds away
Photo Challenge #319
Gentle breeze – cool, fresh
Blowing away dust stifling
Winds of change arrive
*You pick the picture
dVerse ~ Poets Pub
It is amazing how quickly we can forget from where we have come from. If we allow ourselves to be always forwards looking to greener fields, which many people teach is the right was to proceed in life, we can loose contact with how we got to this point anyway. Who were the people, and what were the circumstances that have given us our outlook on life? Do you recall that teacher who showed confidence in your abilities, and encouraged you to look beyond your self-imposed horizons? Do we remember the loves found, and loves lost that taught us how to love, or sadly how not to? Are we thankful for those rough times, when it just seemed that life was going nowhere, or worse still spiraling out of control? Yet, you are still here, how did those moments make it that you are?
We are the sum of every person we have ever met. We are the legacy of the events that framed us. Let’s take a few moments to day to reflect and recall, and then move onwards into the unknown.
From whence have you came?
And to what place do you now go?
What were those fertile fields –
That nurtured and helped you grow?
You are but one person,
But yet a multifaceted being
You have been moulded and shaped
Everyday by life’s everythings.
Into the depths
Amid scenes of decay
A world of chaos
That depresses – dismays
Up from the depths
To possibilities new
A better day
Inspiration Call Writing Prompt
Prairie expanses – like our sorrow-times – dry and grey
But now kissed by the gentle beams of light
And the springtime of unaccustomed warmth
Come alive again in a transformation of bloom
Reaching upwards to the nurturing brightness
Vast fields of flowering hope
So too our blooms of joy
At the coming of discovered new light
Inspiration Call: Flower Symbolism
Better things shall surely come
Come the new morning
Why do you mope so?
Glimmerings are breaking through
See the bright sunrise
It’s not a dream state
These visions of future bliss
But hope manifest
Faith that extreme hope
Of Divine promise assured
God’s reward to come
Realising Fresh Beginnings
Those fresh beginnings
We anticipate and yearn
It is Easter Saturday. For the followers of Jesus, some two thousand years ago, it was the darkest of days. The “deed” had been done. Their Lord had been sacrificed. He had been entombed, and they were in hiding. Gone was the expectation of Palm Sunday, or even the hope of Good Friday that He might manifest His power and come down from the cross. It was, in Jesus’ own words, “Finished.”
On this Easter Saturday 2020, it may seem the same way to many of us in regards to our own lives. We are “entombed” and cut-off from our ordinary lives. We are distanced from loved ones, and many of us have lost or know of others who have lost friends and relations. It is again a dark times.
But we who are followers of Jesus know that Easter Saturday was not the end of the story! Jesus’ sacrifice was indeed finished, but the greatest act in human history was yet to come. Within twenty four hours, he would be risen! Christians’ hopes would be renewed, and a new chapter in the Kingdom of God would begin.
Let us hold on to that resurrection. Let us have faith that we can find life, “a life abundant.” We have been saved from our sins, and are in relationship with a risen Messiah. That is friends, first and foremost. But also in these dark times of personal isolation, let us have hope that a bright day will come. Even now we see evidence. No it is not that some great medical breakthrough has occurred overnight. It is in the little acts of love and humanity that are already fulfillments of “loving your neighbour.” It is those who check on the elderly and infirm. It is those that share food, and provide shopping for the shut-ins. It is the pastor who collects prescriptions for his flock. The mothers that share home school materials. It is those who are “healthy” that stay “entombed” for the sake of the vulnerable. These sacrifices, although only the weakest of shadows in relation to Jesus’ shedding of blood, are still proof of the great things to come.
Not all coronas are things of fear
Some crown-like objects can bring us cheer
Like the blossoms – of the spring of the year
A hope of a new future – we can hold dear
Night of our times brings
Ablaze the greed of a few
Others give of self
A Majority – Cloistered
Together bring healing – hope
Written for dVerse Poetics in response to Mizuta Masahide’s poem: “Barn’s burnt down, now I can see the moon.”
It is midwinter. The days are short. It is wet and cold. Many are rushed about by preparations for the holidays. Others in what is meant to be a festive season of tidings of good news and joy find being away from friends and family a cause of gloom. Others are apprehensive of the reunions with ones that they have grown apart from. It is in short, a “bleak mid-winter” for many.
A very dear sister in Christ wrote to me today and confided in me her depression at this season. Before continuing, I would like to say that I am not medically trained, nor do I understand all the ins and outs of biochemical responses to situations. Even my psychological training was limited to family counselling and low level talking therapies. I can add to that that I am a classic type B personality, and elation and depression are low key in my own life.
That all said, even with this Christmas-tide upon us, and it being the first since Dianne’s passing, I still have no depression. Yes, the weather and season are dark and drizzly. Yes, I spend a lot of time physically alone. But I still have faith in not ever being totally alone. Jesus said, “I will be with you always,” and I find comfort in that, and my ad hoc conversations with Him are frequent. I also trust in His promise that Dianne and I are not permanently separated, but we will be reunited in the place Jesus has gone ahead to prepare.
Christina Rossetti’s poem In the Bleak Midwinter reminds us though of the promise of the season. Despite all of the gloom and social stresses, it is the arrival of Emmanuel which we should cling to. He came that all concerns could be lifted from us. He has come to bring us peace.
Some might take exception to such views. Marx is credited with saying religion, and by implication faith, is the opiate of the masses. If that is the case, the all I have to say is bring on the spiritual pharmaceuticals! I want “the peace that exceeds all understanding,” and I wish you find it as well.