their predecessors
Left no tracks, no maps,
Or landmarks for the journey
Upon which they embarked.
In that they lost their will to fight,
They relinquished their hold on life
And surrendered to death.
But I refuse to grant death so vague a victory.
No, not as long as I am able
To breathe a single breath of air.
I shall not cease until a victory I have won.
Traveling, traveling, I must continue to travel on
Visions of hope I now can see.
Indeed, frequently they visit me
Dreams of victory now dwell
Where doubt and despair once resided.
Faith and patience I have adopted
For my companions and constant guides while I stride.
Hand in hand we travel, side by side.
As my strength decreases, my courage increases.
When my weary feet falter and I stumble,
I summon all my will
To help me climb life’s challenging hill.
Oftentimes I wonder
If there is an end to life’s journey,
Or just a new beginning of a different phase
To a higher plane,
And when all hope seems gone and burdened with gloom
In the midst of all despair, there shines a gleam of hope.
The sun begins to rise, peeping through the clouds,
Shining its rays around. A welcoming sight to see.
I gaze and gaze upon it,
Transfixed with awe for some minutes,
Suspended in time as if
Time had stopped for a moment,
When a gentle voice whispers to me and says,
“Lo, I am with you always.”
All along my journey my Savior was with me,
And now a mountain to me
Is just a valley, turned upside down.
Far off in the distance, is that Mount Kilimanjaro?
Or could it be the peak of Mount Everest I see?
It really matters not to me,
My guide and Savior travels with me.
A Dreary Day
Such a dreary day,
On a cold and wintery December
The sun stays in, it refuses to shine.
Only its silhouette you can see,
But not its rays on this wintery December,
A dense blanket of cloud
Offered itself, a shadow gloom.
The wind lays still and silent.
Not a moving patch of cloud,
No fluttering of the leaves.
The trees stand without a sway,
No birds in the sky to hunt or play
On this cold dreary day.
The rain is falling constantly
But never reaches the earth.
It dissipates among the dreary dense clouds,
Thus forming a fog.
While down below us poor creatures feel
We have been robbed, of our golden sunlight glow
On this dreary wintery day.
A Gift
Look at what we have been given!
A little speck of love from heaven,
Sent to us that we should nurture.
And that speck, with the proper care,
May someday turn into a flame.
A bonfire, or perhaps a wildfire.
Whatever flame it may turn out to be,
We must remember to handle it with care.
That speck of love, with the proper care,
May someday turn into a glowing star,
Or perhaps a galaxy, or even the Milky Way.
And so we nurture our speck of love
With gentleness, for each other we care.
Thus we toil, and with our hands
We built ourselves a cottage.
And there we watch
Our love as it grows.
Soon we produce children of love,
And now with love we often pray.
While we give thanks to the heavens
For that little speck it has given.
Now a family of love we share.
Cherry Hill
Cherry Hill on high, exhibiting her splendor,
Boasting her charming view, dazzling the eyes
At sunrise or at sunset.
You
