Will I ever be the same?
A voice in mute
Puts time in dispute
I’ll dip my pen within my hand
To rest upon my stand
Time doesn’t heal
But its memories I’ll steal
To press for my appeal

If time allows
Not knowing how
Or what to do now
For what’s left for me
If only the verse
And not the melody

On the road to Moriah I met a man
Whose words I didn’t understand
“Have you passed the test
Or do you follow the rest?”
“Do you travel with faith in hand?”

Returning from Moriah is when I knew
What the man was referring to
Left to my own devices
Had left my world in crises
But with faith as my strength I made it through
************************************
Faith manifests itself in obedience

“Understanding is the reward of faith.Therefore
seek not to understand that you may believe,but
believe that you may understand.’
Augustine (354-430)

No one counts the days
No one counts the ways
Before they grieve
What do you believe?
Do you?

Die in regret
Have done
Haven’t yet

Die in fear
Not knowing what lies ahead
Where do you go?
How do you get there?

Die in denial
You take the position in opposition
Don’t take about dying
Continue denying

Die self-sufficient
I did it my way
That’s all I’ll say

Die in change
Thinking that resolutions
Could provide the solutions

Die in faith
There’s no debate
Live in faith
Die in faith
However!
Talking about dying
Is a social taboo
But how you look at dying
Depends on your point of view
******************************
“Every man must do two things alone;
he must do his own believing and his own dying”
Martin Luther

Ari Moriendi (c1415)
The Art of Dying

Bury me not in a mausoleum
Where they visit like a museum
Only to be left alone
Surrounded by blocks of stone

Bury me where the beauty of spring
Will bring me a carpet of clover
To cover me over

Bury me where the shadows fall
On a bright  summer day
Let them rest where I lay

Bury me where the autumn leaves fall
Let their bright colors
Spread a blanket of pall

Bury me where the snow
Brings a blanket of white
To warm me on a cold winter night

A place where the squirrels rabbits butterflies
Come to visit
Where the birds sing my song
A place where I belong
A place where I’ll never be alone
*********************************
“For behold,the winter is past,
The rain is over and gone.
The flowers have already appeared in the land;
The time has arrived for pruning the vines,
And the voice of the turtledove has been heard
In our land.
The fig tree has ripened its figs,
And the vines in blossom have given forth
Their fragrance…”

The Song of Solomon
(2:11-13)

I inspire pens to write
I give thoughts that transcend imaginations
I open portals for I am immortal
I capture your
Voice
Laughter
Love
Sadness
All that’s required
To fulfill your desires

I speak an awaken your broken dreams
I inspire and set hearts on fire
I lead and you follow
I give and you take
I feed and you swallow

I am the words you put to song
Without me you can’t get along
I am the love you fantasize about
I am the romance you can’t live without
I am the emotions that stir your devotions

For!
You give me life
I exist only in you
For I am the poem
But you are the poet
****************************
“The poets mind is in fact a receptacle
for seizing and storing up  numberless feelings,
phrases, images which remain there until
the particles which can unite to form a new
compound and are present together”
T.S. Eliot

The angels descended
Caught in the spirit
They lifted me where I lie
Transported me
To the other side

I stood before a jury of three
Robed in black
There they questioned me
My tongue was numb
I could not speak
The answers were given to me

The jury then stepped out
I had no defense
I could not object
It made no sense

The jury returned
Robed in white
To welcome my soul
From darkness to light

The spirits rejoiced
I heard it in their voice
You may not think it so
But the jury makes the choice
***********************************
“Rejecting Jesus is like a fugitive who spends
all day running to hide.
You will face him after death.
He is the only Judge and Jury.”
Felix Wantang