@POETRY
PRAISING GOD!
by Jonnie Wright
My God, mighty in the Heavens,
His power revealed on earth as well.
He never sleeps, He is ever-present.
He inhabits each breath I take.
May I sing His praises in all circumstances
For He dwells in each one.
He does not shirk from me when I fail,
But carries me through to times of renewed joy.
No matter where I go, He has been there.
No matter which path I take, He has gone before.
I waver in my own indecisions,
But God steps forward in assured victory.
May my voice lift in praise to His Name
May I never falter from the mountain He chose for me to climb.
May my soul not keen in despair,
But lift in exaltation for God is I AM!
ALONE
by Jonnie Wright
Before I was born, I was alone.
Childhood came and went,
But I was never a child.
I skated through adolescence
By being an adult.
As an adult, I was alone.
Went through two husbands,
And raised one son,
But neither “wife” nor “mother”
Were comforting to me.
As a Christian, I’ve walked alone.
Good preachers came and went.
Bible studies, potlucks, ministries
All had their place at home;
And yet, I was alone.
My physical body is now alone.
Fibromyalgia claims my frame,
And keeps me separate from others.
If it does not, I use it as a screen
Letting no one come too close.
I am a person who is alone.
Aloof from others’ joy and pain.
Not sharing my own intimacies.
Afraid of trespassers,
And those who shoot their wounded.
Wait! I say! This can’t be right.
Christ formed me in the womb.
He’s held my hand all through my life,
Carried me through grief and strife;
He never wasn’t there.
But have I ever really loved?
God’s Golden rule to do?
Did I open up my heart?
Give power to be hurt?
I will not risk to love.
So much of me, so little of Thee,
Priorities run amuck.
Oh Christ, to save my soul for He
Grows trust in my arrogance
And leaves me not alone.
Open my heart! Heal my soul!
Lift up my eyes to Thee.
There is so much I have to do
Why should I cry and be alone?
Instead, sing glory to my King!
I like to write free verse poetry because rhyming seems to have a stilted flow to it. Beautiful Moments of Joy and Peace by Connie Arnold banishes all such prejudice. I find her rhyme to be natural and comforting, like a hot cup of cocoa on a stormy night. Her poems center the soul and help shut out the chaotic noise in my head and in my life. “Serene” describes the my mind-set after reading her work. Take time out for quiet reflection and peaceful musing with Beautiful Moments of Joy and Peace.
I like to write free verse poetry because I rhyming seems to have a stilted flow to it. Beautiful Moments of Joy and Peace by Connie Arnold banishes all such prejudice. I find her rhyme to be natural and comforting, like a hot cup of cocoa on a stormy night. Her poems center the soul and help shut out the chaotic noise in my head and in my life. “Serene” describes the my mind-set after reading her work. Take time out for quiet reflection and peaceful musing with Beautiful Moments of Joy and Peace.
WOUNDED
by Jonnie Wright
We are born into the world.
Desired, breathes away childbirth pains.
Unwanted, injures with each contraction.
We are so vulnerable as crying babies,
Wanting only food, sleep, and comfort.
Without these we are wounded.
Toddling brings falling down
Love covers the bruises
Disinterest internalizes each bump.
Childhood days are fun-and-games,
Or adult game-playing with young minds
Leave scars that cut too deep.
Teenage years we’re out of control.
Pressure, uncertainty, self-identity
Crushed by cruel words and thoughtless acts.
Marriage brings the honeymoon,
Followed by commitments and compromises.
Blessings flow or down we go into quiet misery.
Divorce, mutilation of the spirit.
Regrets depress, division agitates,
Vicious is the separation of souls and family.
Mid-life comes, on some it smiles
While others begin the survival years of
Desperately holding what slips through their fingers.
Mellowing at last!
We think ah-ha, I’ve made it!
To be blind-sided with ill health or death.
Old-age a burden some no longer want;
While others revel with memories of successes.
Yet feebleness of mind & body causes soundless desperation.
Illness stalks us all, no matter what the year
Good health comes to some through life,
While others’ wounds become pain’s grimace.
Each heartbeat of life
Can defeat in many ways.
By design we live, believing
We’re in the Master’s hands.
Jesus gives wounds meaning.
He makes the journey with us enough.
–Galileo Galilei (1564-1642), in a letter
I send you a rose, which ought to please you extremely,
seeing what a rarity it is at this season.
And with the rose you must accept its thorns,
which represent the bitter suffering of our Lord,
while the green leaves represent the hope we may entertain,
that through the same sacred passion we,
having passed through the darkness of this short winter of our mortal life,
may attain to the brightness and felicity of an eternal spring in Heaven.
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