Sunday, June 26, 2011

Converged Faith

I see when you run from withered
weather, abiding by the
two faced wind,
engraving the arduous pain of your lull
in some heartless soil and
dragging heavy chains along
your broken bones, to
reach in my shade, to find a way to
my castle

my child

believe your faith, for
I am the beginning and I am the end,
I am the one where the winds shall cease and
where the waters shall submerge
I am the abode of the sun, the moon, the heavenly,
the source of your existence,
I am the supreme cause of all causes
when everything is destined to
renounce its convergence in me,
why do you fear?


Henry Clemmons said...

Very inspiration. A perfect read I needed today. PLUS, you presented it so elegantly, in the true sense of the word.
It moved me and claimed ownership. Great power in your gentle words.

Lynne said...

This is one of those poems that when read aloud, the audience remembers long aftr the reading has stopped.. great lines, beautiful life lessons.

Much enjoyed this !

Claudia said...

and why do we fear...? this really spoke to me...the running from withered weather, the dragging heavy chains alone...we shouldn't - thanks for the reminder

Glynn said...

Interpeting the photo as the alpha and omega - very well done, Monika. Wondeful poem.

Quotes,Photos and a little Poetry said...

Love,Love it.

dustus said...

Outstanding! Had to read it a few times. What an unexpected twist in your poem—that transition to the direct words to the child. Bold tone. Strong poetic voice. Great ending.

Brian Miller said...

lovely bit of worship...the first half sets it up nicely with the hard imagery of our own plod of life to faith...very eloquent...

Susie Swanson said...

Great poem with inspiration and great lines. How could anyone forget it? Very good, loved it...Susie

Christine said...

Believe your faith, interesting that this was the main focus of this mornings lesson in church. I love how life repeats its self in small subtle ways.

wolfsrosebud said...

Nicely done. Very poetic and beautiful.

Blasphemous Aesthete said...

Beautiful post.

It reminds me of a poem, though that was not from God but from a love:

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush.
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.

Keep writing.

Blasphemous Aesthete

Monika said...

Blasphemous Aesthete, oh this is so intense, layering a lover's heart in so many beautiful forms, he certainly can not die.

Monika said...

Thanks everyone!