Tag Archives: SPIRITUALITY

MORNING DOVE

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Morning brings us mindless enterprise

until Brain sorts itself sorts itself out

and finds a side to lean on as

rational thoughts begin to unsteadily rise,

as do we, from beds draped in blankets

and dreams, soon lost in shallow mists.

uncertain what this new day will comprise.

We only awaken when the world makes sense again

and each moment of each hour of this day stops

being a devastatingly horrible October surprise.

Which may explain why so many refuse to awaken,

fearful of what the day may bring to their side.

Living in the dawn of denial and refusing to think

keeps nightmares hidden behind false pride.

Which may explain why so many fear being woke,

and despise those awake, yet steadier, than they are.

It is easier for some to remain in the dark ages,

unable to face each new day with hopeful anticipation.

The unstable on their feet, pushed around in misdirection,

bombarded steadily by false presentation on their way

to the kitchen from the bedroom to prepare for work,

which may or may not be securely theirs if AI has a say.

In darkness, they color outside the lines of common sense,

unable, and scarily unwilling, to follow a rational conversation;

or simply refuse to move an inch, holding on to the fence.

We all need a simple cup of coffee, for satisfaction.

We all need a moment, or two, of silent reflection.

We all need to accept our common imperfection.

We all need a personal course correction.

We all need to reassemble our sleepy thoughts

and start behaving as we ought.

We are stronger than we know.

We can stand on our own.

we can let fear go back to sleep

as we awaken on balanced feet

facing each new day.

That is no mean feat.

It was never meant to be.

We were made from and for love.

We are the morning, not the mourning, dove.

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Filed under POETRY, POLITICS

GOOD FRIDAY

Photo by Ivan Samkov on Pexels.com

I do not kneel

at the foot of the cross.

I climb upon it and feel

the pain and loss.

Each of us carries deep within

our own crucifixion.

We pull our weight up the hill

to our own Golgotha and pray,

accepting the help, with humble will,

of those who come along our way.

Perhaps it is sacrilegious to believe

suffering is truly sin’s reprieve

when we have been taught

His death made us free.

The curtain of my mind was wrent

and any hate I felt was tossed

beyond the confines of Lent

which led me to this Holy Day of loss.

Yet, hope remains that on the third day

My soul shall rise along His side

and fear will finally be put away,

knowing nothing can destroy me now.

I will live to see Him rise on Easter Day.

Not even death can stop me now.

Photo by Jill Wellington on Pexels.com

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Filed under POETRY