2Late4luv

10800

Site Rank GENERAL
Total poems		120
Lifetime Views		12918
Total poems - 7 days		0
Total poems - 30 days		0
Total poems - 90 days		0
Total poems - 365 days		0

you need to login or register to leave a comment

reuniting

Wasted

Long days trying to get by. Forced to try love one more time. Expectations of the lie. To have and hold until I die. Motivation of a normal life. Career and family the central cause. Governed by the rules of laws dictating where and when hope is lost. Giving AL my strength to win this fight for a path that is disappearing. Each and every choice I have is a red flag of reminders poised to become the sword of weaknesses. A plan every moment to linger, to wait for the taste I can't forget. The thrill of consummation. That final edge that life produces confirming we are in it. Taken away by the unavoidable and loving it. All too often regret crudely casts the shadow blotting out the joy of giving in to it. Renewal, the resolve of doing it over blooms within.

Worth

Lord, there is nothing I have done to prove that I have done all that was required of me as deserving a man's bearing the cross to Calvary. All my little sacrifices, all my nickels and dimes, all my prayers for someone else have been dispersed in my own time. Fear carried me to my knees to confess that I believed but it has been 53 years since and now I cannot conceive of anyone who would confirm that I have lived a life that it was destined to be. I see that it has been too easy to slip into a mindless pit into a fire, unlit. Unchosen by luck or talents latent, as I try once more to overcome I am dismally disconnected from the reality, unceasingly breaking me. Darkness does not overtake the light completely the walk of Christ denied for now will surely never always forsake.

For Love of Christ

Many lifetimes ago. I faced the thought of taking on the Father, Son and Holy Ghost. I could ot see beyond the heat of fear that being with them would mean shortening this earthly life that Jesus taught us how to lead. The moment seemed interminable and the days of learning about the things he had done to save mankind from self destruction touched my mortal soul. The experience of baptisms I had witnessed in the church before excited me and I could barely wait for more. At the present as the world teeters on the foundation of its roots I pray constantly for his truth to inspire the world of believers to return to the way God says we are meant to culminate....and that childhood prayer so simple and succinct ....our souls to take.

Love

For love of, Christ

Thankful

Sometimes the shifting seconds strain my nerves and I listen to the creative geniuses who have a way with words. I would be bereft if not for the protestations of their conquests and undying confidence in love. Love is the fabric of the stories the Bible cements our relations to one another in Christ and to family. Without the romance of man and woman we could not have had or would have any other. Aside from accepting people when the choices they make may not be our own...we should not forget the wealth of existence from which all blessings flow. Being real in love begins with the original consequence.

For a Soldier

A fight they never ask for. And sometimes never want. They commit themselves to s cause...to defend the United States. A place so far from home and all they hold dear. Content to be with kindred spirits when not there. Making a better world for today and tomorrow. Serving in the armed forces is an honor.

Autumn

A word of wonder as the season personifies brilliance of life in gold, yellow, sienna hues. A season signifying the aged though the splendour of it is new . Minted in greens rival skilled reds that seem brown...summer dimmed, surrounds. Of laughter, because the outdoors is safe from the heat that sweat places. The breezes of Autumn cool ...stretching out for days of glistening few on leaves touched by rain.

Consumed

moving with an ease of letting my les and arms take me forward with a pleasure oly the soaring bird can know as body is propelled by what tothe is the gusts of air, is for me the lack of despair plaguing my people with the thought of the repsectless,and dreadof life. Dread of living, the experience of survivors who have knowo hope of tasting the fruit of their work, we the fruit of their loins feel The tides that parted the Red seas emboldened by the command of those greater than ourselves to free that beast of slavery. Time to tell it , Let my people Go, Mayhaps our tiking has toolong occupied itself with its evil intent Time spent too log with its ravshment of the present which can occupy itself with that breath taken in the moment of comparison, then and now. Satisfied with the doing and doing what must now be done in freedom, completed.

Vesper

Habit of having the freedom of leisure for a change lifts feet long shackled with the work of the day , now free to grab ad go and relax at a spot where a breath can be held and exhaled in time...for self. Taking in what has long belonged to someone else...never inhabited for any point on the contiuum of living ...but now for some time ...mine. The world is great.. greater thanit willever be again but not as great, i thik tan it should be, had not the vesper of restraints forced upon a people of noble birth known resraint.

Thanks For A Forgiving Nature

That inner cringe of hurt, of pain that makes an appearance again and again. Everytime, you think absolution clearsthe resudue after many years...postponing that apology...that rides with pride, convincingly. The choice was right. None is perfect., especiallyyou, but , today you wish you had arried through. That impulse to make amends. Now the world has changedaand our world may end. Sooner than later, and still unable toput to rest the discontent with self...of personal mismanagement. Opposing temperaments, tardy with the salve of admission...of wrong forgiveness without expectations that normality can be found.