The Pain Of Being God
It is a pain and not a pleasure, thee know not;
Being God and not being felt by thee all so.
I am the God of thy past and thy present
And helplessly of thy future too.
I came from nothing but am still the Lord of everything
And at times I wonder about my omnipresence.
I created a lot and thought of recreation next
And so I have left this world of thy concerns.
I cause drought and flood; famine and calamities
But I am faulted neither on Sundays nor on Fridays.
I bless the wicked and shower riches on the filthy rich,
But the righteous suffer and the have-nots starve to death.
I kill a few hundreds in a plane crash or a rail mishap.
With a few surviving I am thanked again!
I first send the demon of floods and then the angels of the Red Cross,
And the silent prayer of the soon-to die goes up in the air.
My past was full of passivity and penury, I recollect and
My present is full of activity and riches, I fear.
In the elusive be-wilderness of this universe
I continue to hide my head with palms stained!
At times I weep within for long
For I too have a large mind and a huge heart.
I regret about my creating spree and recreational excesses.
I know the error of being myself but I am composed yet!
I am waiting for a huge ball of fire or something like that to come
From somewhere spanning the material to the man
So that its flames may lick away my entity
And I may fade away into nothingness as of earlier.
A new earth and a new sky thenceforth shall be,
A new order of life that sans thoughts of me may rule high,
And a God of thy choice be created by thee.
Still spare me for my pains of being thy God till then.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Related quotes
A Better Person
MATERIAL RICHES MAKETH NOT THEE A BETTER PERSON,
MATERIAL RICHES MAYEST GIVE THEE QUALITY WINE,
MATERIAL RICHES MAYEST ACQUIRE FOR THEE, CHOICE VINTAGES,
MATERIAL RICHES MAYEST GIVE TO THEE, RICH AND SILKY CLOTHES,
INDEED, IT MAY GIVE THEE A COMFORTABLE ABODES AND LIFE,
INDEED, IT MAY GIVE TO THEE, ABUNDANCE IN GOLD, SILVER AND DIAMONDS
BUT MATERIAL RICHES DOST NOT MAKE A BETTER BEING OUT OF THEE,
LO, I TELL THEE THIS,
YOU IT IS, THAT CAN MAKE THYSELF A BETTER PERSON,
YES, A BETTER PERSON OF WISDOM, KNOWLEDGE AND UNDERSTANDING,
YOU ALONE CAN SAY TO THYSELF, THIS IS GOOD AND THIS IS BAD,
YOU ALONE CAN CHOOSE TO BE A BETTER PERSON,
YES, YOU ALONE HAVE THE RIGHT TO DECIDE WHICH IS GOOD FOR THEE AND WHAT IS BAD FOR THEE,
THUS, YOU ALONE CAN MAKE THY WAY BETTER,
I AM A BETTER PERSON, BECAUSE I CHOSE TO BE ONE
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
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A Story Of Father And Son
THE STORY OF FATHER AND SON
In thy world, any one is for none,
But thee Father for son.
Wishes had he many when thy son opened his eyes,
From then he would search the aim in his childish eyes.
Be his son, great, greater, greatest than the father, sang in his daily’s prayer,
Empty they would starve but provide thy son bread & butter,
The half-battled wishes, which he could not, in his life time,
Fulfill would the son make, hopes had he many.
School he sent, books he provided,
To make his son greater than thee.
Taking huge sum he taught to make his child literate,
Thinking of the hopes that he has, which his son would make fulfill.
Good result in turn provided the son,
Happiness filled in the heart of thee, and all the sadness was gone.
More & more good result he expected,
And the son fulfilled the wishes of thee at best.
Waited for the job, thee for son,
Got-And distributed sweets both father and son.
Thought for the half-battled hopes which he would now fulfill,
And the son, till the partner, fulfills.
When the partner comes,
Thinks thee extra and grows dislike.
Every day thee’s gray eyes saw him,
The eyes would see the son’s disliking for thee.
Day’s past would think thee,
Of starving and feeding his old age’s stick.
Till the partner, the stick was a stick,
And thee thinks some day the stick would kick,
Alas! it happens,
Left their house, thee with his partner,
The house where he dreamt high thoughts,
All thoughts and wishes was now in ruined.
Lived happily the son with his partner,
Once a cry heard from Peter’s house,
That was the little junior partner,
Both they had.
Expectations had he many,
As their junior opened his eyes.
Did the same as thee did for him,
And the child in turn did the same as he did with thee.
The real mystery could he understand now,
Pain of old age, before the son, made his head bow.
Thought of his old father who left the home but didn’t bow,
Felt proud of his father and did the same now.
Pain of old age he could understand now,
Says the father before leaving home now-
“Till birth who cared you, loved you their love is no fair but the partner’s love has more value”
Whispers in the ear of his little son-“Don’t do the same”
And said-“Long live my son, god bless you” and departed.
This time the real thing fascinated the son,
He tried to keep them but none.
Felt lonely the son,
And got the punishment, for he has done.
MANISH KUMAR MAJUMDAR,
Any Recommendation: -
Manish Kumar Majumdar,
C/o-Mr.Arun Kumar Majumdar
At-Belamala, Basulipada,
P.O.-Charampa,
Dist-Bhadrak,
ORISSA-756 101.
[email protected]
Log In to Orkut and find Manish in Bhadrak
poem by Manish Kumar Majumdar
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A Woman's Love
So vast the tide of Love within me surging,
It overflows like some stupendous sea,
The confines of the Present and To-be;
And 'gainst the Past's high wall I feel it urging,
As it would cry "Thou too shalt yield to me!"
All other loves my supreme love embodies;
I would be she on whose soft bosom nursed
Thy clinging infant lips to quench their thirst;
She who trod close to hidden worlds where God is,
That she might have, and hold, and see thee first.
I would be she who stirred the vague fond fancies,
Of thy still childish heart; who through bright days
Went sporting with thee in the old-time plays,
And caught the sunlight of thy boyish glances
In half-forgotten and long-buried Mays.
Forth to the end, and back to the beginning,
My love would send its inundating tide,
Wherein all landmarks of thy past should hide.
If thy life's lesson must be learned through sinning,
My grieving virtue would become thy guide.
For I would share the burden of thy errors,
So when the sun of our brief life had set,
If thou didst walk in darkness and regret,
E'en in that shadowy world of nameless terrors,
My soul and thine should be companions yet.
And I would cross with thee those troubled oceans
Of dark remorse whose waters are despair:
All things my jealous reckless love would dare,
So that thou mightst not recollect emotions
In which it did not have a part and share.
There is no limit to my love's full measure,
Its spirit gold is shaped by earth's alloy;
I would be friend and mother, mate and toy,
I'd have thee look to me for every pleasure,
And in me find all memories of joy.
Yet though I love thee in such selfish fashion,
I would wait on thee, sitting at thy feet,
And serving thee, if thou didst deem it meet.
And couldst thou give me one fond hour of passion,
I'd take that hour and call my life complete.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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The Secret of Time and its Passage
Memory defeats passage of time
Hurts and pains enliven passed times and events
In the form of aches, and rarely are enlivened pleasant experiences had;
Anxiety, fear, apprehension constitute the future;
Past and future are thought forms
In the present continuous,
Arising out of earlier experiences,
And doubts and imaginations about the imminent,
Are mere mental projections
In the present;
The present continuously changes
Every one tenth of a second
As a pulse series of awareness
Replacing past dissolving into future;
Events took place and the ones we imagine may happen
Respectively create memory,
And doubts, fears and expectations;
Thus the egoistic mind drawing us into the past or future
And seldom allowing us to live in the present
And enjoy current bliss, peace and silence
Creating whirlpool of time and its passage
Never lets us transcend the notion of time
And its passage;
But the reality is,
Present continuous being
One-tenth of a second,
The past over and the future yet to dawn;
Realization of this secret of
Passage of time, past, present and future
As mere thought forms in the present,
Sets in us peace, bliss and quietude
And we face life cheerfully
Transcending mental suggestions
And enjoy the present in calmness,
Peace, bliss, silence, in unoccupied awareness
As contented and content-free state of mind
poem by Varanasi Ramabrahmam
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The future is not a result of choices among alternative paths offered by the present, but a place that is created - created first in the mind and will, created next in activity. The future is not some place we are going to, but one we are creating. The paths are not to be found, but made, and the activity of making them, changes both the maker and the destination.
quote by John Schaar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Past, Present, Future
i lived in the past for so long
that the present was always unknown.
now i always look ahead at all the possibilities
and there is so much, that i now see.
a shimmer of light at the end of the tunnel
and my thoughts being poured through a funnel.
the past is the past, and that's where it will stay
and in the present, we have to find a better way.
for the present will soon be our past
and if we don't do something, it will not last.
we must always look to the future
for it is only twenty four hours away
then it will be our past
and we have so much to do and say.
when i look at life, i truely have to laugh
today is our future and tomorrow it'll be our past.
now that i have you confused as to what i am
trying to say.
i guess i will try' to put it a better way'.
we all tend to procrastinate
always leaving it for tomorrow.
but! what if you don't see tomorrow.
and today you did'nt accomplish that task
how will you be remembered
if the present you left for last.
when we leave this material world
and our souls soar up in the sky
we will still have our memories
and that we can rely.
for when we get up there(if we do)
your soul will have carried all that you did
in this life
and the memories of friends, family
husband, or wife.
now when you look down on all that you had did
and asking yourself the question.
did i use my time, the way it was
meant to be?
or did i procrastinate, that others now speak of me?
we all have to work in order to survive.
but we must stop on occasion to smell the flowers.
and to enjoy all that we was given
otherwise how can you call this living.
(my thoughts: the words and stories were given to me.
so that i could write them down, for al the world to see.)
this is my philosophy.
poem by Louis Rams
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The Curse of Kehama
I charm thy life,
From the weapons of strife,
From stone and from wood,
From fire and from flood,
From the serpent’s tooth,
And the beast of blood.
From sickness I charm thee,
And time shall not harm thee;
But earth, which is mine,
Its fruits shall deny thee;
And water shall hear me,
And know thee and flee thee:
And the winds shall not touch thee
When they pass by thee,
And the dews shall not wet thee
When they fall nigh thee.
And thou shalt seek death,
To release thee, in vain;
Thou shalt live in thy pain,
While Kehama shall reign,
With a fire in thy heart,
And a fire in thy brain.
And sleep shall obey me,
And visit thee never,
And the curse shall be on thee
Forever and ever.
poem by Robert Southey
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Your Ascent
How many times you’ve fallen means nothing.
It’s how many times you got up that make the difference.
Your climb toward life’s summit will suffer falls if you’ve charted a high enough course.
Each fall only makes your ascent sweeter if you arise wiser and continue.
Plan your next step rather than fearing your next fall.
If you start with fear, you have already fallen even before taking your next step.
During your ascent, you will rise and fall like the sea.
As the falls rise take care; as the rises fall take heart.
Beware of a slide masquerading as smooth ride.
As the tempo quickens, remember a fall is fast, an ascent slow.
Look ahead with your eyes and behind with your memory.
While ascending don’t let your vision be blurred by your memory.
Remember the past only as it can relate to your present and future.
The past without reference is nothing, but the past with only remorse is worse than nothing.
See the present for what it is rather than should have been.
Live the present before it is the past while planning for the future before it is the present.
During your ascent think quickly, but deliberately.
What you have put behind will gain on you if you don’t keep moving ahead.
Keep your mind on the summit, your eyes on the ascent and your foot on the very next step.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Rise, Oh My Soul, With Thy Desires To Heaven
1. Rise, oh my Soul, with thy desires to Heaven,
And with Divinest contemplation, use
Thy time, where times eternity is given,
And let vain thoughts no more thy thoughts abuse:
But down in darkness let them lie,
So live thy better, let thy worse thoughts die.
2. And thou, my Soul, inspir'd with holy flame,
View and review with most regardful eye,
That holy Cross whence thy salvation came,
On which thy Saviour, and thy sin did die:
For in that Sacred object is much pleasure,
And in that Saviour is my life, my treasure.
3. To thee (O Jesu) I direct my eye,
To thee my hands, to thee my humble knees,
To thee my heart shall offer sacrifice,
To thee my thoughts, who my thoughts only sees:
To thee my self, my self and all I give;
To thee I die, to thee I only live.
poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Over All
The Lord Jesus is over everything, as The Sovereign and Eternal King,
He is Creator and Sustainer of all, that moves upon this terrestrial ball.
And all around it He has dispersed, His Light throughout this universe,
The many lights displaying His Majesty, this as far as any eye can see,
Everything created for His pleasure, greater than anyone can measure.
All for His pleasure without any end; all that the eye can see my friend.
All upon the earth was made by Him, everything that is, except our sin,
However, sin did come through, one God created, before me and you.
Created in God’s Heavenly place, but, in pride, Lucifer fell from Grace,
Then was cast down to this earthly sod, as that Eternal Enemy of God.
With this, from God, came a curse, upon His creation and all the earth,
Friend, upon this earth, men would fall, into sin, those great and small,
But, God would send reconciliation, to the earth through His Salvation,
Giving sinful man the eternal victory, over sin and God’s eternal enemy,
Redeeming in Christ, all fallen men, and the earth that was condemned.
The Eternal God and our Creator, came down to earth to be our Savior,
He became poor, for you and me, when He left those riches of Eternity,
Emptying himself of all but love, Christ left His Throne in Heaven above.
Coming down, He still was God, but, now as a man on this earthly sod,
But, Christ came to earth, not to live, for His own life, He came to give.
(Copyright ©07/2007)
Thee, Thee, Only Thee
The dawning of morn, the daylight's sinking,
The night's long hours still find me thinking
Of thee, thee, only thee.
When friends are met, and goblets crown'd,
And smiles are near, that once enchanted,
Unreach'd by all that sunshine round,
My soul, like some dark spot, is haunted
By thee, thee, only thee.
Whatever in fame's high path could waken
My spirit once, is now forsaken
For thee, thee, only thee.
Like shores, by which some headlong bark
To the ocean hurries, resting never,
Life's scenes go by me, bright or dark,
I know not, heed not, hastening ever
To thee, thee, only thee.
I have not a joy but of thy bringing,
And pain itself seems sweet when springing
From thee, thee, only thee.
Like spells, that nought on earth can break,
Till lips, that know the charm, have spoken,
This heart, howe'er the world may wake
Its grief, its scorn, can but be broken
By thee, thee, only thee.
poem by Thomas Moore
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Hymn after Receiving Holy Communion
I HAVE Thee now, O Jesu,
Enshrined within my soul,
In all Thy love and fulness,
With power to make me whole.
Though cold and so unworthy,
5
Though weak and stained with sin,
I opened to Thee, Jesu,
And Thou hast entered in.
I have Thee now, O Jesu!
And oh, the thrill divine
10
To feel that Thou art in me,
To know that Thou art mine!
I have Thee, too, O Jesu,
As pledge of future bliss;
But faith is lost in wonder
15
At rapture more than this.
I have Thee now, O Jesu!
Purge all my dross away,
Light up my inmost being
With Thy full flood of day;
20
Do Thou, O Lord, shine through me
In all my words and ways,
Till others catch Thy glory,
And join in endless praise.
I have Thee now, O Jesu!
25
Oh, never more depart!
Grant that no fresh offences
Shall drive Thee from my heart;
Till down the long dark valley,
The path which Thou hast trod,
30
There dawns in cloudless splendour
The vision of my God.
Amen.
poem by Frederick George Scott
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51 Psalm
Look mercyfully down O Lord
& wash us from our sinn
Cleanse us from wicked deeds without
from wicked thoughts within
Lord I Confess my many sinns
that I against thee doe
Each minute they're before my face
& wound my soul anew
So Great my god my ills have been
Gainst thee & onely thee
Thy Justice tho' I were Condemnd
would good & righteous bee
For att my birth I wickedness
Did with my breath suck in
But thou shalt teach me in thy ways
& keep me pure from sinn
Thoult me with hyssopp purge who am
all over soil's & stain's
Thou with thy sanctifiyng grace
shalt wash & make me clean
Thoult bless my days with peace no sound
But Joy shall reach mine ear
That where thy Justice wounded Lord
There Gladness may appear
Blott from thy thoughts past faults & from
The present turn thy face
O make my spirit right & good
Confirm my heart with grace
thy Presence & thy mercy lett
Me ever Ld possess
Me with the comfort of thy help
& with thy love still bless
Then shall the wicked know thy pow'r
& turn ym from theyr wayes
Deliver me from blood my god
& I will sing thy praise.
Unseal my lips & to ye Bad
I will thy mercy shew
For since thou lovest not sacrifice
Tis all that I can doo
A heart that is with sorrow pierct
My God thou wilt receive
this is ye sweetest offering
that we to thee can give
On Sion Graciously look down
Preserve us still we pray
& hearts upon thine altars Lord
Instead of beasts we'el Lay.
poem by Thomas Parnell
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In Thee I Trust
Thee has created me with love,
To love.
Thou has forgiven my sins
As vast as the ocean
My only true love
In Thee I depend
For waking each morn’
My daily sustanance
To Thee I pray
Ever so humble and thankful
For my every blessing received
I kneel to Thee
Thee sent Rumi in my dreams
To show me the way
The narrow ledge I am to cross
He showed me how
Swifty without fear
Of what lies below
He showed me how to fly inThine Mercy
And truly “yaqeen” in Thee
My beloved creator
Who knows the depth of my heart
To Thee
I leave all my affairs
My every thought,
Am consumed by Thee
My heart echoes Thy name
My life in Thine hands
In Thee lies my destiny
To Thee I yearn to return
Pure of heart and soul...
poem by Persian Khushi
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Dink's Song
(b.gibson/b.lomax/j.lomax)
This is a blues traditional that has been performed also by bob dylan. jeff performed it several times in his concerts, and he performed it also live on-air for the music faucet, a wfmu radio broadcast, on october 11 1992.
If i had wings like noah's dove
I'd fly up the river to the one i love
Fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well
If i met your man, who was long and tall
I'd hit his body like a cannon ball
Fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well
One of these days and it won't be long
Call my name and i'll be gone
Fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well
I remember one night, a drizzling rain
Round my heart i felt an achin' pain
Fare thee well, oh honey, fare thee well
When i wore my apron low
Couldn't keep you from my do'
Fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well
Now i wear my apron high
Scarcely ever see you passing by
Fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well
Now my apron's up to my chin
You pass my door and you won't come in
Fare thee well, oh honey, fare thee well
If i had listened to what my mama said
I'd be at home in my mama's bed
Fare thee well, oh honey, fare thee well
song performed by by Jeff Buckley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Father, I Know That All My Life
"My times are in Thy hand." -- Psalm XXXI.15
Father, I know that all my life
Is portioned out for me,
And the changes that are sure to come,
I do not fear to see;
But I ask Thee for a present mind
Intent on pleasing Thee.
I ask Thee for a thoughtful love,
Through constant watching wise,
To meet the glad with joyful smiles,
And to wipe the weeping eyes;
And a heart at leisure from itself,
To soothe and sympathise.
I would not have the restless will
That hurries to and fro,
Seeking for some great thing to do
Or secret thing to know;
I would be treated as a child,
And guided where I go.
Wherever in the world I am,
In whatsoe'er estate,
I have a fellowship with hearts
To keep and cultivate;
And a work of lowly love to do
For the Lord on whom I wait.
So I ask Thee for the daily strength,
To none that ask denied,
And a mind to blend with outward life
While keeping at Thy side;
Content to fill a little space,
If Thou be glorified.
And if some things I do not ask,
In my cup of blessing be,
I would have my spirit filled the more
With grateful love to Thee --
More careful -- not to serve Thee much,
But to please Thee perfectly.
There are briers besetting every path,
That call for patient care;
There is a cross in every lot,
And an earnest need for prayer;
But a lowly heart that leans on Thee
Is happy anywhere.
In a service which Thy will appoints,
There are no bonds for me,
For my inmost heart is taught "the truth"
That makes Thy children "free;"
And a life of self-renouncing love
Is a life of liberty.
poem by Anna Laetitia Waring
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A New Year's Morning Song
Thanksgiving and the voice of melody,
This new year's morning, call me from my sleep;
A new, sweet song is in my heart for Thee,
Thou faithful, tender Shepherd of the sheep;
Thou knowest where to find, and how to keep
The feeble feet that tremble where they stray, —
O'er the dark mountains — through the whelming deep —
Thy everlasting mercy makes its way.
The past is not so dark as once it seemed,
For there Thy footprints, now distinct, I see;
And seed in weakness sown, from death redeemed,
Is springing up, and bearing fruit in Thee.
Not all that hath been, Lord, henceforth shall be;
A low, sweet, cheering strain is in mine ear,
Thanksgiving, and the voice of melody,
Are leading in, from Heaven, a blest new year.
With voice subdued, my listening spirit sings,
As backward on the trodden path I gaze,
While ministering angels fold their wings,
To fill with lowly thoughts my song of praise.
The shadow of the past on future days,
Will make them clear to my instructed sight;
For the heart's knowledge of Thy sacred ways,
Even in its deepest, darkest shades, is light.
I am not stronger — yet I do not fear
The present pain, the conflict yet to be;
Experience is a kind voice in mine ear,
And all my failures bid me lean on Thee.
No future suffering can seem strange to me,
While in the hidden part I feel and know
The wisdom of a child at rest and free
In the tried love, whose judgment keeps him low.
Thanksgiving and the voice of melody!
O, to my tranquil heart how sweet the strain!
Father of mercies, it arose in Thee,
And to Thy bosom it returns again.
There let my grateful song, my soul, remain,
Calm in the risen Savior's tender care;
And welcome any trial, any pain,
That serves to keep thy faithful children there.
Thoughts of Thy love — and O, how great the sum!
Enduring grief, obtaining bliss for me;
The world, life, death, things present, things to come,
All swell a new year's opening melody.
Past, present, future, all things worship Thee;
And I, through all, with trembling joy behold,
While mountains fall, and treacherous visions flee,
Thy wandering sheep returning to the fold.
poem by Anna Laetitia Waring
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Constant Time
Time past and the future give way to this present picture,
But can somebody tell me how to recognize that gate that leads to the bed of roses,
We speak about the future like the past is a grain of sand on the shore,
Washed away by the ocean tide,
Giving way to new grains to make a portrait of the present,
These past memories stay deep in our heart like the depths of the ocean,
Though it gets washed back to shore ones in a blue moon,
Reminding us that our past is a standard measurement of our strength,
Time moves so fast making the past to fade away,
this makes us seem so secured about the present,
Forgetting the fact that our present becomes our past that was once a present from nature as a new day,
Some take the future to be a dream and a wish,
But I take my future to be what I see when I stand from the bottom of the mountain to look at the top,
And my past to be the depth of the ocean that can always be washed ashore …
The only thing I can control is my present,
Yes cos my mind controls my hands to give you a flash of what goes on in my head
Like this words i write to you was once my future and will become my past, making my future my past and my past my future..So ironical isn’t it?
Standing here I sure know 1 thing,
I will reach the top by that foot path,
Yes of course it’s not to mean that I wouldn’t fall,
But I have to break myself off my present past and walk with grace to stand where I belong,
There where I am the king of my destiny,
The past is just going to be a page of memories,
And my future will become my present making time constant in my head,
Because I stand on my past which was once my present and my present which was once my future, making time equal and constant
As I flip thru this page of life,
By: ade
poem by Adeniran Oluokun
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Myriad Thoughts
I sit here in myriad thoughts
dancing around my head
too fed up to put them to bed.
Thoughts of the past,
thoughts of the future too,
thoughts of things this and that
and thoughts of what to do.
Memories invade at times
of pastures long gone by
as the myriad thoughts
fill my mind with anger and with love
and times; I wish I could have lingered with
when my years were young.
Things pass in phases,
hearts entwine then fall apart,
seasons readily appear,
stay awhile and then depart.
Here I sit in a lonely waste
thinking thoughts of what might have been
if the crystal ball I look into had only seen.
Now the myriad thoughts appear
to haunt me in quiet times
and carry me to distant places
the world has left behind.
Those little specks of moments
that still linger from the past
that lay waiting to capture me
before the quiet time has passed.
28 November 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Father's Prayerful 'Conversation' With His Daughters
I wonder: do you yet know the power and import of prayer?
I ponder upon this, as surely you long too, for my presence there!
I miss thee as no means of word may properly expound;
The depths of my heart's lamentation is truly profound!
Upon that wretched day, lo so long ago, it was ripped to shred,
Each new day whereupon I lack thee, is a day I do dread!
Those that have sighted thee, tell me of your grace and lightness,
This is little consolation, I yearn still witness of your ladylikeness!
Nary a moment does pass whence thoughts of thee are not near,
Daddy is fighting for both of us-of this have not, any fear!
My return to thee is written by Him, it is all of which I ruminate;
What hath been imposed upon us is loathsome, this does obviate!
He said unto me: 'My child, much pain I have brought to bear
To assure you, the import of the child for which you shall again care;
For she is the most obvious form of the love I have for thee;
Nary is there to draw compare to the fidelity of thine own-she
Too, for thee, though comprehension full escapes her yet,
She doth pray for same, and has, since last you each met!
Her's is a devotion sans pareil, I question it not for one moment,
Each is ameliorate due the other-soon you shall see My affordment! '
My beloved Daughter, as He hath spoken, unto me and thee, same-
We each may take comfort in what remains to come, not, what came;
Our past is but a prologue, for our future's unity is indeed, bright;
Restored, our covenant-then, e'er, you shan't be taken from my sight!
As we do await this, our reunion, ponder upon memories, precious-
This shall allay any all moments you may have of my return, anxious;
In my absence, I assure thee, nary is there, than you, more import-
I, as you, am exceedingly anticipatory of our impending consort!
Maurice Harris,29 November 2009
poem by Maurice Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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