passing

Cherish the Love

A moments lapse in judgement, and all else, foretold 
Honest, a waver too true to mention, and a recourse too late in a spiraled dissension was sown
Oh our child, in you we gave, our life, and every breath henceforth, expunged as by a ceaseless dagger
Deliver us, from this dark hour, all who we are, we gave, and in you, laid bare our trust and prayer, deliver us!
Now and then we seek, yet now, inside a woeful heart is beating, and then, a hope that feels all too fleeting 
Inconsolable are the days, in which we must let you walk away, and we stray at the end of a barren stairway
Passive nights trailing by and by, our love for you insatiable, each hour, as the one before, lackadaisical
Through which juncture refuge will we find, to animate and place in motion and succor us through this storm
This is the day, carry on our child, don't you sway, nor dear to falter
Don't be afraid, when he calls, answer him, hineini, here I am.
Rest no judgement upon those who have once suffered, for to atone is to suffer, alas, all shall suffer before long
Bear what has taken place, repent, and realize as with all things, everything comes to pass, even our sins
Cherish each day, don't go astray, don't you run away, there's no control of what was, so don't pause
There is freedom within, akin to countless flowers, we'll cast the emptiness away, clearing for a pathway
From the anguish we return, if we cry, or if we laugh, its not the end, we're unbent and forever unbroken
We'll find that even without, there is freedom, believe in destiny, cherish the life, and cherish the love
By the sea, eventually all are set free, but right now its time to go, very slow, we let go, 
Then after a rainbow, you're there, smiling, and we keep on, because life's worth living for.
E.A.
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Ruthless Monotony

I'd love to write a poem of hate right now,
But hate only brings the same,
I'd love to tear the walls down,
And paint everything black,
My soul is crying out with rage
Like an animalistic scavenger,
Seeking the blood to tear the guts
From the bellies of demons who created this disaster.

And inner peace speaks softly
All the while beyond this fury,
I cry not only for the anger,
But I cry because of this beauty,
A spark that's lived within the thrawls
And clutches of such untold deceit,
I'm weak as a lamb and fall down in mercy
...and bow to love's defeat.

 

7:45 PM 4/17/2013 ©

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a poem about the silent spark that pummels through our rage. 'Be still and know that I am god--this too shall pass'

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The Passing On

As I cracked the window,

The aroma of honeysuckle filled the car,

And I drove beyond the lake,

Down the winding road and past the old barn,

And before I reached the driveway,

I could smell the lilac bushes in your yard.

Opening the front door my perception shifts

Into a world long forgotten,

And though in the past,

So very present as I stood alone,

There in the stillness,

Waiting for the future to unfold

At my command,

Quenching my lust for suspense,

The silence shaken abruptly.

I turned to look, gasping…grasping for,

Reality, was peering through the glass

As the funeral car pulls in the drive,

And the memory of one so dear…stays alive.

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A Dying Day

And so I wrap up this day.
minutes of sand slip away.
Driving down the road so black.
Trying hard not to look back.
Knowing time is close at hand,
Devouring the day so bland.
Time, so cruel, unforgiving,
This day, pass from the living.
As the hours fade away,
Time has claimed another day.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I was driving home after a full day at the office and an equally full evening at the University. I was thinking about the book The Langoliers and punched this one out.

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