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Lady Waiting

Page 4

by Christine Secretan


  If you’re not laughing all the time?

  Or that you’re troubled if you eat food healthy and right?

  Jolly people cannot be determined simply by their size,

  And you cannot measure happiness

  By the width of someone’s smile.

  Just as the tip of the iceberg gives no indication

  Of its size, happiness is something

  That burns deep down inside.

  It cannot be calculated by a sum of outward signs,

  Only glimpsed as a flicker dancing in smiling eyes.

  If my mirror was thee

  I look in the mirror and what do I see?

  Contours held up by stubbornness not grace

  And impatience has carved these lines in my face.

  How different I’d look if my mirror was thee.

  I look in the Scriptures. What do I see?

  Fullness abounding, a gift of your grace.

  On every page your heart is seen in your face.

  Your reflection is given in this mirror to read.

  I look to the heavens. What do I see?

  Embraced in your love, you will wipe my face.

  Restored to your image I’ll shine in your grace -

  Forever to be a clear mirror of thee.

  Remember me

  Forget me not dear Lord

  When I’m stained from where I’ve lain.

  Forget me not Lord when it’s seen

  My feet have strayed.

  Grant me clear vision Lord

  To see the journey forward.

  Fill me with wisdom Lord

  So I’ll know each choice is yours.

  Touch and fill my heart Lord

  So I’m faithful to the core.

  Melt me when I’m hard Lord,

  Then they’ll know the mould is yours.

  Keep my feet walking Lord

  On that pathway to your door.

  Spare me from falling Lord,

  For you know that I am yours.

  Forget me not Lord,

  I’m trying to live your way.

  Remember me my Lord

  When home I come that day.

  Holy oil

  If you’re not so quick at turning your back

  When you hear temptation knocking,

  Perhaps it’s because your reservoir is empty.

  If your responses have grown rusty;

  Your conscience seized ajar;

  Present yourself a receptacle

  For the Lord to fill with oil.

  A heart on fire, yes that’s what I need –

  Permeate, strengthen; set fire to me.

  Make clear my desire, yes let me see

  Your will, your plan - your Spirit be in me.

  Deep (Water from above)

  When the river is deep it takes a mighty force

  To alter its course.

  The wind may blow, and the sun scorch.

  There may be some ripples; there may be some loss

  But when the river is deep

  It takes a mighty force to alter its course.

  Dig the well deep Lord. Dig the well deep;

  Fill it with water from above.

  Dig the well deep Lord. Fill it with your love.

  Shield me from adversity. Protect me from myself.

  With water from above, Lord preserve me with you love.

  Darkness

  In the darkness I walked,

  Alone; afraid but no one did know -

  I hid the fear so I would be feared.

  In the darkness I lived;

  Lonely - partying so no one would see

  I saw no future worth fighting for.

  In the darkness I danced.

  Never alone; always seeking

  The one who’d come and take me away.

  Through the darkness I caught a glimpse,

  I heard a sound.

  In darkness you found me.

  I clung to your voice;

  It lit up the night.

  In the darkness you found me;

  From the darkness you led me.

  Light within the light

  God’s love is universal; his canopy shelters all.

  Amid the strife and the turmoil

  His arms extend this call:

  “My love is light, for I am light;

  “In it you’re meant to live.

  “To turn from me lets darkness in;

  “The sinful path is dim.

  “For you I yearn, my love still burns;

  “I know the power of night.

  “To guide you home I send the Son -

  “Your light within the light.”

  He is the victor; let’s praise him

  (a song of praise)

  Praise him. Praise him.

  He is the victor let’s praise him.

  In song, in song,

  Praising my Lord my heart is strong.

  Cleanse me. Cleanse me.

  Purify my heart Lord cleanse me.

  Fill me. Fill me.

  Abode of your Spirit, Lord fill me.

  Show me. Show me

  The way of your heart Lord please show me.

  Lead me. Lead me.

  Ne’er let me stray far, Lord lead me.

  Onward, onward,

  Seeking my goal I’ll march onward.

  Praise him. Praise him.

  Our Lord and Saviour, let’s praise him.

 

 

  4In the dark

  Walls

  LIFE is like a spinning top,

  WHIRLING AT FULL SPEED;

  Following paths in all directions

  But NOWHERE do they lead.

  I’M TRAPPED HERE IN THE MIDDLE

  While its shell rotates about;

  There’s NO PURPOSE in me being here,

  No way to get out.

  I can’t live; I CAN’T DIE;

  I’m just a PUPPET on a string -

  Everyone else enjoys the show,

  I DON’T FEEL A THING.

  All the people marvel...

  YES, the performance was done well;

  I know it’s JUST ANOTHER ACT

  Till I climb back in my shell.

  Oh how I wish the owner of this toy

  Would give it ONE LAST SPIN,

  Smash it up against a wall

  And CRUSH my soul within.

  One step from the sunshine

  Just one more step and I’ll be in the sunlight...

  Heavy clouds roll in and hide my hope from sight.

  Just one quick dash and I’ll be out of this rain...

  My foot slips and I am drowning once again.

  Just one soft touch and I’ll feel the words you say...

  You neglect me and my heart is filled with pain.

  Just one more breath and I’ll make it up this hill...

  My legs grow weak and leave me standing still.

  Just one clear day and I’ll get through all these nights…

  My struggle is the evidence I’m still grasping onto life.

  Idle fingers

  His lonely fingers grasp the bottle and pour

  Yet another drink. It is not his shaking hands

  But his empty heart that fills his glass to the brink.

  It is not his will but a night alone

  That brings him here to sit and think.

 

  His idle fingers tremble as he fumbles

  With the pack. There is no soft hand beside him,

  To tease him with a light so he almost puts it back.

  There, in that cigarette is something he can hold

  So he lights it and draws its fumes right back.

  His gentle fingers speak clear to me but not in a

  Fleshly way. In his moves I hear this age-old rhyme:

  ‘The devil soon finds work….’ The scene sees the rest explained.

  In his eyes I glimpse an angel, all he needs

  Is a
lady and heaven would be his again today.

  His soul’s burnt fingers, numb with alcohol, sift

  The chaos in his mind. No consolation is found

  For yesterday. No new plans seem fit to try.

  He finds no reason to go home so at the bar he is stationed.

  Here no questions will be asked. Here he’ll buy himself more time.

  Feline

  Kitty, Kitty with your soft smooth fur;

  Come, it makes me happy when I hear you purr.

  Pussy, Pussy, drink your fresh warm milk.

  Here, sit on my lap; soothe me with your silk.

  Kitty, Pussy, no you don’t want to go.

  Kitty see there’s nothing out there. Why do you still roam?

  Puss cat my pet, why do you leave each night?

  Why not stay here on the sofa? I’ll turn the fire high.

  Ginger my love, they say it’s in your blood;

  Please tell me what you hunger,

  Let me fill your need. I’ve more than enough.

  Honey, if you love me, why do you still hunt?

  Master of disguise

  Family, friends, hugs and kisses,

  Festivities, dress-ups and giggles;

  Marbles, football, boyish pranks,

  Fan clubs, music, movies, dance…

  Enter the demon.

  Unrecognized.

  Accepted.

  The reprobate is at ease.

  Robbed of innocence

  A child is sentenced to life.

  Stigma deafens all ears to the plea:

  “When will I stop feeling like this?”

  Courtship, endearments,

  Congratulations, wedding bands;

  Foundation pegs, vegetable plots,

  Talk of babies and long-term plans…

  Enter the demon.

  Drunken, full of stress;

  Pressured within, without.

  Insecurities explode.

  A woman stripped of trust

  Wears a robe of shame.

  Staying silent, alone;

  Loving, hating,

  Till it all feels the same.

  Enter the demon – master of disguise.

  Whatever your weakness…

  Wherever a door…

  The demon’s trophy is your demise.

  Virtual reality

  Lifeless faces devoid of hope.

  Frozen poses, there’s no way out.

  Eyes that mirror what they cannot tell.

  I stumble on, not through Madam Tussaud’s –

  Just one step farther in life’s catacombs of hell.

  I stumble on. Lifeless faces... Frozen poses...

  Cubicles of torment, each picture the same.

  Sometimes prisons are steel; sometimes they’re just as real.

  Unmarked graves

  Hardly a day passes without the news declaring

  Someone is missing

  Or that another has been abused.

  A body is discovered.

  Murder they say... Who? By whom?

  From its unmarked grave

  The body’s exhumed,

  Autopsy performed.

  Headlines seize us and we are desensitised

  With the details of the crime.

  From unmarked graves

  We emerge. Ghosts of who we used to be.

  Raped, yet nobody saw.

  Abused. Who can know the mutilation

  The soul endures?

  Each day bearing witness to the injuries received.

  Each day yearning for renewal and peace.

  Willing to bleed

  Firm he stands; he moves not either way. To walk away

  Will result in shame. If he holds his ground

  He’ll be hailed brave. With his name at stake he fixes his gaze;

  He has to prove this man is not afraid.

  Why does it have to be proved this way? All the honour

  He’s thus far attained, is now jeopardised

  By the challenge made. Like a bull in the ring, scarred with age,

  His worth tomorrow rests on this clash today.

  A man he is; a man he’ll always be. The fact is simple

  Even plain to see. The evidence there in his genes.

  All that means nothing to some it seems,

  Unless of course he is willing to bleed.

  Ageing soldiers

  The past is a minefield. Its territory is the mind.

  All the places, dates, and faces

  Are now trip wires to each mine.

  The past is a war zone. We wear its scars for life.

  For the bravest and the frailest

  The danger is buried for all time.

  The past is a graveyard where dreams did fall with night;

  Where ghosts now haunt, even taunt,

  But stand we will; all soldiers fight for life.

  The faces of war

  Life as we know it ends with the advancing sounds;

  Panic then fear grips us as this tide sweeps our land.

  Simultaneously hearts are crushed as buildings fall.

  Nothing’s held sacred when your country is at war.

  With a mere stroke of a pen a decision is made;

  Designated ‘allies’ or ‘foes’ - we were children yesterday.

  Just a part of the game. Pawns on the board.

  We’re no loss if you win. We’re the victims of war.

  Through the dust and the rubble comes a pitiful plea;

  Shaken, dazed I reach for the hand stretched out to me

  Then recoil at the sight! But why? I’ve seen the maimed before.

  Whoever she was, she now is a casualty of war.

  In a haze of adrenaline and fear we’re shelled by steel and screams.

  Indiscriminately we are attacked, fighting men then disease.

  For sake of our country we stand, we fall.

  We give our life freely but there’s no honour in war.

  Once we were ‘chosen’; now we’re chosen to die.

  Spurned, degraded, condemned by a lie.

  No answer is found as we’re filed through the doors -

  Just branded a statistic of a crime called war.

  Though the history books’ pages are faded and torn,

  New editions ensure we’ll continue to mourn,

  For man has not learned from these annals that form…

  Still new pages fill daily with the faces of war.

  Double vision

  Side by side I see them,

  The starving and the full.

  Just one line does divide them -

  A comfortable verbal border: “Can’t life be so cruel?”

  Side by side I see them,

  The victim and the brute.

  Just one thing does define them -

  A self imposed enforcer: “I’m the one with boots!”

  Side by side I see them,

  The prisoner and the free.

  Just one wall does confine them -

  A powerful social order: “That’s where you should be!”

  Side by side I see them,

  The weakened and the strong.

  By their heart the reveals them -

  From the inside they are sorted: to show our view is wrong.

  Each to the Lord

  Heavenly Father, Lord God of all;

  Majestic ruler, Creator of all;

  Why is there such chaos? Why do we pull from your Word?

  What happened to perfection? Why do we all have to fall?

  Why if you give in abundance do we still have to toil?

  Why when you say all things are possible

  Is there no peace, only more wars?

  Would we be more trusting if your presence was assured?

  Could we change anything if we listened to you more?

  Would the world find harmony if individually we answer your call?

  Heavenly Father, illumine for us that path to your do
or.

  You have, and you keep giving; may we give you our all.

  Nothing so tragic

  There is nothing as tragic as a baby’s name on a grave,

  And there is nothing as tragic as the parents who

  Empty hearted return to tend it day after day.

  There is nothing as tragic as old folk living alone,

  And there is nothing as tragic as the sound

  Of children crying when Nan or Pop has been called home.

  There is nothing as tragic as a body suffering disease,

  And there is nothing as tragic as the loved ones

  Who feel guilty for whispering: “God, do something please.”

  There is nothing as tragic as life viewed through our eyes,

  And there is nothing as tragic as the rejection God suffers

  When we ignore him, and march through it without him to die.

  The beauty within

  Sometimes my mood is ugly, and nothing brings me joy

  Because my heart is bitter, my soul pressed down.

  When happiness rules there is nothing quite like being alive;

  Full of bubble, bounce and the confidence to

  Tackle the world - this aura is a smooth cushion to ride.

  At such times it is easy

  To praise you Lord. My desire is to praise you -

 

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