Derailment

We are our own engine pulling our Past.

Laying our Future, one Rail at a task.

So as with a train with endless Coal,

We too can pull whatever our Past has to hold.

One track segment at a time does an Engine cross,

Brings smooth riding on its Rails Future toss.

A pleasant smooth Future we may lay for ourselves.

Or a roughly shaped structure can be pulled from the shelves.

But as long as your laying Rail down.

You won’t derail even at sundown.

So as the Engine hauls on its load,

Let us too Coal up for the past we do hold.

One track segment at a time do we cross,

Brings smooth riding unless we do stop.

We are our own Engine pulling our past.

Laying our Future, one Rail at a task.

Life's Chapters

The chapters I face come in many shades.

The range is endless like from black to white.

Each day I begin a new chapter,

Each day I have to have it end.

Some daily chapters of my simple life seem to beam with glories light.

While often, though lately, seem to be darkened with fright.

I choose what the Chapter will say,

I choose my good and even bad days.

But when encompassed so deeply with tears on the edge,

I can choose to look skyward, and not through the hedge.

That choice and power given me,

Is so I can overcome who I use to be.

Chapters have come and the font chosen to write won’t fade.

But Today is a new Chapter and its font will not be grey.

I do not choose my fortune and I do not choose my tests.

But simply I do choose to do my very best.

My Chapters I’ve faced have ranged from black to white.

But Today and forever I choose them to simply be Bright!

A 14 Lined Thank You

Thank you, Thank you for your strength

Thank you for saving me in my times of irate.

You never know the number of ripples from one tossed stone.

So like unto you, you never know the blessings to me you have shown.

On the days when I was so malfunctioned and distraught,

You always were there to fix me in silence and never did you get caught.

When I look at how I am living my personal life.

I imagine your goodness and try to be more like Christ.

Millions of times I think of your stone tossed my way.

And I reflect upon the ripples of past the cross over to Today.

All I am really trying to say,

I mean if we just throw all the poetry away.

Is “Thanks a million and then a million more”

For never leaving me, or shutting the door.

Natural Man

Natural am I, A man of sorts,

To give way to evil cohorts.

When casting power as though it were dross,

I realize my future becomes a big loss.

The bumps in my road are not from the land.

But put in front of me by my own hand.

Complaining never changed the world.

Thus, never will ever make mine unfurled.

So now my power I keep to my own.

Creating a future I wont condone.

My road made smooth by my own hand.

To create more good on Thee Almighty’s Land.

By God the King the word will change.

Thus us, his tools must make the first change.

No more Natural can a man be,

Make mistakes and losing all glee

But everyday natural can be overcome.

By retaining your power in the Eternal Son.

Eternal Reflections

As the young lady leaned over the well,

Scared and hurt from the things people tell.

She saw the reflection of her young girl face.

But then a tear drop rippled the reflection out of place.

When she looked again, after drying her eyes,

She saw someone different that ‘caused her much surprise.

She turned to the sky to see who she saw.

But saw nothing, so thinking it a flaw.

She looked again into the well of dim night.

And saw a similar reflection, but with Glory and Light.

She looked harder and harder into the watery scene.

But couldn’t just place the face she had seen.

Then her mind was opened through the watery well.

She looked all around and saw the opposite of Hell.

Brilliant white marbled palaces, laced with pure gold trim.

Immaculate gardens with trees and plants flourishing therein.

She felt a tug of happiness with in her own heart,

Which pointed her directly to the Master of Art.

As she fell to her knees, weeping with tears.

A soothing voice echoed into her silenced ears.

“Daughter, Ohh Daughter, Child my Dear!”

“My Greatest creation to which brings me Tears.”

“Remember your Mother, represent Her with no Fear.”

“Child your Mine, please pray and stay Near!”

As she raised from her knees, her conscious was clear.

She noticed the reflection of her young girl face.

And smiled in return Knowing her eternal place.

The young girl stood up from the well.

Empowered with Knowledge, she can now tell.

A Vision of Thanks

I had a vision just now in my head.

I was lying helplessly there on my bed.

As time went by my soul diminished,

My body faded as though life was finished.

I cried to myself knowing no one would hear.

Then I let my life fall, and the blackness brought fear.

But right before my time came to a stop.

Two Heavenly Beings turned back the great clock.

I had a time once in my life,

When all I did was lye in strife.

As time went by my soul Boomed!

My body grew weak, but not to be doomed.

I laughed aloud with friends that cared.

Then I let my life go, ‘cause pain could be bared.

But right before this time came to a halt.

Two Heavenly Beings turned the time to that of no Fault.

Daughters of A King

Do you even know who you are?

Do you know who even cares?

Let me put it into simple words,

So that everyone that read; heard.

You are the Greatest and Best,

Most Eloquently dressed,

Beautiful Princess at this great Fest.

You are watched over more closely,

Cared for most Dearly,

And loved above all that is in this world.

Let me put this into simple words.

So that anyone who reads, will have heard.

You Young Ladies and Maidens,

Grandma’s and Ma’s who’re laden.

Don’t let your memory be faden.

You are the Princesses and Queens of this world.

Your Love is the power that will easily be unfurled.

So your spirits will beam Hope for the distressed to be healed.

Let me put this into simple words.

So that everything that reads, has heard.

You are as sacred as Gods own Throne.

You are Higher, than the world does now know.

You’re simply God’s Daughters; Go forth and show.

You are to be treated with Love and Respect.

From every man, simply, that is what God expects.

While you portray your divine aspects.

So do you know who you are?

So do you know who cares?

Because if you don’t, God sure does,

And He will help you get There.

Victory over Strife

I wonder what it would be like to try a life that was so tough,

That the chance for victory would be slim enough...

Life is a photographic competition in a way.

To be professional you have to pay.

You need cameras, equipment, talents, and skills.

Or else you never win anything from the judgment till.

So how could I a novice at life,

With no talent, no game, nor flashy speech to relay,

Even compete in such a professional game play?

It seems as though the photo I desire,

Is much too far for the camera I’ve acquired.

So as I run, walk, and then crawl,

To harvest the photo once ‘n for all.

It appears to me that it’s already been received,

By a professionals camera that was intended to intercede.

So how could I a novice at life,

With no photos, no sketches, nor masterpieces.

Even compete with the professionally trained elites?

When judgment comes and I turn in my gear,

I get many strange and interesting glares.

So I slump to my corner of my pitiful life,

To let the professionals rub in my strife.

Until I hear my name called aloud,

To be a winner amongst the great crowd.

So how could I a novice to this life,

With no talent, no game, nor flashy speech to relay.

Even compete with these professionals game play?

When I walked from my dark corner in fear,

I noticed the stares became friendlier as I drew near.

So I asked the judge if there was some sort of error.

Replied He with boldness, how it couldn’t be fairer.

I received the rewards of excellence and first place.

For keeping up as a novice in the professionals race.

…Slim was the victory of the toughest life.

But victory’s the end, when you don’t give way to the strife.

True Identity

In the land of Here and the land of Now,

We can learn who we truly are somehow…

A boy looked in a mirror and saw what he had seen,

A young lad who couldn’t and wouldn’t succeed.

He gandered in the glass for an hour or so,

Trying to see past the image he’d sown.

So he tried to out run and out whit the mirror.

But its remembrance brought him continuous fear.

With anger and rage his bosom enflared.

Trying to beat the image he had to stare.

The young man tried forget what he had seen.

But never could surpass the image on the screen.

He fell to his knees with shame and regret,

Seeking for refuge from his imagined up debt.

A Man came along with a smile in His eyes,

And asked the lad why he did cry.

As the boy explained what the mirror had shown.

The Man asked to see the mirror the boy had known.

As the boy looked at the mirror in utter surfeit.

The Man with simplicity cheerfully wept.

The boy questioned the Man, “why the cheer and the glee?”

The response opened his mind, and his fear began to flee.

As he looked in the mirror and saw what the Man had seen,

No boy under-succeeding, but God the Fathers own kin.

The boy turned to speak to the Man,

But much surprised the Man had disbaned’.

He stood proud as the mirror followed his lead,

No longer to run from his true identity.

…From the Land of Here and the Land of Now,

We learn who we truly are somehow.

You can be led by a mirror of your shame and regret,

Or followed by your true identity you’ve finally met.

Course of Time

Look deep through the Fabric of Time.

And remember distinctly your first whine.

Through the thread and stitches so fine,

You see the doctor separate your line.

The memories begin from those you heard

As your life you remember began when you learned.

The Fabric of Time begins to become thin,

As your mind expands and grows within.

The thread and stitches as clear as can be,

You remember distinctly everything you do see.

As time passes the clearness dispersed,

We only remember the best and the worst.

The Fabric of Time become dimmer then dawn.

We recognize life, and how it moves on.

As we look deeper into the Fabric of Time.

We remember distinctly before your first whine.