A Few Poems
RATHO
Ratho — there my passion strolls / from farmlands yonder weaving past suburban homes.
Little do you realize the terror infecting this being / confounded by a Passion willingly given for all eternity.
Lips mindlessly chew on “blessed fruits” / but the mind drifts frivolously into unplanned pursuits.
Yee who calmed the seas / silence the storm brewing within me,
for I am weak, I am small / an unworthy insect enrolled to guide the salvation of all.
One could grieve, burdened with the task at hand / for even if we Live anew, shall we ever understand?
But Ratho — there you lay / withstanding tempers that lead to a second decay,
Shepherding me down the narrow lanes / greeting folk and children enjoying their play.
A murky, nestled stream gingerly flows ‘neath a bridge / graced by a Swan whose glide I dare not infringe.
Bowing with majesty, it follows toward the water’s origin / pleasing patrons overlooking from a nearby inn.
The imprisoning duties of my world cease to be / and there ahead, an aged wooden seat beckons — like others — before me.
There are no obligations, perhaps not even to Thee / as I rest my soul upon the bench as if entranced by the sea.
Strollers and cyclists pass, I another face they’ll soon forget / while I stroke the final beads of a promise kept.
The sky blazes brighter than the Good afternoon; / a gentle breeze hums along with bird tunes;
A leaf blower buzzes, a man finishing his hard labor / then a voice whispers, “This be a moment to savor.”
Sheltering in a basking warmth, I wish not to leave / not then, nor all eternity — is that what the Author promised thee?
There is no shadow to out-run / Time has only begun.
Ratho — once again, during that passionate Friday I understood / not to forget life, but to see it as when He called it Good.
***
FREEDOM
Freedom! A word now ringing hollow / a broken bell encased in shadow.
“Teach! Act! That will save this nation / and reforge the principles of our civilization.”
But darkness drowns and mountains rise / and the leaders dare not dream or sympathize.
The Cross weighs heavy as the speeches go on / as a bliss once cherished sleeps well after the Dawn;
and the farmer aimlessly plants seeds in sapped fields of Liberty / while the valley wails in tears of longing and mockery.
Yet the Victory is won and freedom shall reign / but the Promised Land lies an eternity away.
My feet will not touch that grass or bask in the sun / but the Idiot still strives for unity with the One.
What is freedom and can it ever be achieved? / Can the word even be reflected upon and perceived?
Yes — yes — He gave us the Will / though the bell is cracked, I believe in freedom still.
Rise! For the boulder is removed! / For even when red rocks erupt, splitting the sky — life begins, today, anew.