Category: Poem

Words can be amazing, whether spoken or written on the page. 

Like the stroke of the artist’s brush, they paint calm, they can stir up rage.

When the words, as the harpists fingers, skillfully strike the chords of the human heart

They can resonate most beautifully, sounding joy, thus fulfilling their intended part. 

When the words arrive like the sound of a horn, in a never-ending blare,

They can numb the heart with their discord, driving out the peace that once was there. 

If the words that I send find harmony, to continue simply answer, “yes”.

If the words are an endless blare, a simple “no” will put them to rest.  

Today as I entered these portals,

Gone was the rhythm of life. 

I slowly walked in silence; 

Unsettled by a personal strife. 

The quietness, though pleasing to the ear,

Evokes contention in my heart. 

The silence speaks of a void, 

Amplifying the greater, missing part. 

What is missing is the spirit of humanity;

The vitality, the emotions, the care. 

What the soul creates within itself, 

Is does with the intent to share.  

Gone are my colleagues, away are my friends, 

Absent are those I assist. 

To whom shall I give, from whom shall I receive? 

How long will this struggle persist?

Change is taking place all around. 

Its impact is quite easy to see. 

The most far-ranging and difficult change,

Is the one to occur in me. 

The outcome of this battle within, 

Will lead to transformation and change.

A longing for the life that once was so familiar,

Is antagonized by a reality so strange.   

Note: this reflection was inspired by a visit to the office building I had worked in for 10 years.Due to the quarantine of 2019 – 2020 it was unoccupied at the time of my visit. 

Of all that I’d ever wished for, for what I dreamed one day I’d be;

I just wanted to be a blessing for all those who’ve been a blessing to me. 

Thank you for sharing a kind word when I helped to meet your need.

But without someone to serve, I could never perform a good deed. 

There are times when you’ve been my servant, for which I sincerely thank you.

The times I cherish most are when you’ve let me be your servant too. 

For all that I’ve been given I know its not mine to keep. 

For together we have sowed the seeds. and together we shall reap. 

By ourselves we do not travel; we meet others along the way. 

Those we encounter in the morning are those we serve today. 

I pray I can serve you on the morrow; I pray our paths will cross. 

For a day without serving others, is to be counted a day of great loss. 

Your dear mother is no longer here, she’s following Our Lord to her new home. Once she’s there and settled in, she’ll look down from heaven’s dome. 

In her earthly life, with all her strength, she cared for her family through prayer. The Lord was kind and generous, none of His graces did he spare. 

From here on earth her prayers, they seemed to do quite well.
Up in heaven, so near the Lord, you should expect more than one can tell. 

Now in the Lord’s presence, she’ll pray for your each and every need. Your prayers are her prayers and on your behalf she will intercede. 

Jesus loves His mother, He loves your mother too.
I imagine Him saying, “Yes” to what she’ll ask of Him to do. 

Your mother hasn’t yet stopped the work she started here on earth. She cared for you each day of your life, from the moment of your birth. 

Keep her in mind, keep her in your heart and don’t ever feel alone. Remain confident in her prays and love, she’ll be praying until you’re home. 

We know when the week ends and we know when the week starts.

We seem to break it down, not evenly, but rather, arbitrarily in two unequal parts. 

The work week has five days, now that hardly seems fair. 

The much deserving weekend, two days, a measly, simple pair.

To ameliorate this great injustice, a simple solution I’ll propose. 

Let us move Wednesday after Friday (and before Saturday, I suppose).

The work week will have four days, the weekend now has three. 

Still not exactly equivalent, but moving towards parity. 

Here is a more balanced arrangement between the number of days off and days on.

Would tailgating each day of a three day weekend become a triathlon?

I suppose that it could, I believe that it will, I presume that it probably might. 

But the solution here is easy, have autonomous vehicles drive you home at night. 

When we focus and toil real hard, we call that effort labor. 

That same word applies to us and separately to our neighbor.

But when we work together, there’s another word we give.

We transcend beyond mere ‘work’, we become “collaborative.” 

Now, there remains one matter to settle, or at least that’s what I say. 

Let us add to our calendars an annual hiatus, we’ll call it ‘Col-labor-ative’ Day.

Life isn’t warm and fuzzy

Life will never coddle you; it demands you be strong and tough. 

You must engage every situation and speak up when enough is enough. 

Life if not a practice exam, it’s not a proctored test. 

You must anticipate everything, be prepared to give your best. 

When the pencils go down, you know it’s time to practice what you’ve learned. 

You face the fire, you walk on glowing embers, but your feet are never burned. 

You get your grit on, you lead the way, you show what the possibilities are. 

Motivation comes from those you serve, they’ll come from near and far. 

You’re out to show forgiveness, you’re merciful and you’re kind. 

Lift up those who have fallen down, feed your enemies and lead the blind. 

And so you do what Jesus would do and you walk with Him each day.

As you promote the success of others, God’s graces will come your way.