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          POEMS - 2017 - A


          Column

               

          A


          One thing I've learned
          That comes with age
          Is that pain is often accumulative
          It layers itself in bandages and chains
          Until motivation and inspiration
          Have all but disappeared into the night sky
          Where the memory of constellations
          And twinkling stars
          Has faded beyond the point of caring
          And even the habit of naming them for fun
          Has become a chore.


          The boat - she sits below the water line
          With a list of repairs too long to reckon with
          And on the prow sits an empty logbook
          With browned and withered pages
          That turns desperately in search of orders
          When stormy winds seep through the cracks
          Of broken glass
          And brazen vespers mock the captains wheel
          That barely tilts off centre
          Save to rock in sync with the slaps of waves
          That beat her against the moorings of the dock.


          It has often been asked
          That if one hand is strong
          And the other is withered
          Which one do you extend to God?
          There's a world of difference
          In the philosophies of life
          As to how to deal with the withered hand
          To conceal it or wave it about
          In a desperate plea for help
          At best - the pain is swiftly obliged by God Himself
          And at worst - it is soul killingly ignored till the end of time.


          Not many people know
          That the first letter of the alphabet
          The affable capital letter A
          Is the graphic symbol for a bulls head
          And the universal icon of power and trade
          It represents a determined creature
          With a broad intimidating face
          And a set of stout, well anchored horns
          It defines a bull with an attitude
          With smoke billowing from its nostrils
          And a formidable rugged beam of shoulders
          That eagerly squares off against its enemy
          Atop iron hooves that dig ferociously into the earth
          From whence it launches a reprise.


          One thing I've learned
          From God
          Is that one has to fight back with everything possible
          And that sometimes when we raise the withering hand
          Not as a wound - but as a red flag
          That it catches the glint in the eye
          Of the strong willed perseverance of Taurus
          And the Alpha bound creature raises its powerful head
          In recognition of the blood
          And it comes charging in a roaring rage
          To "push back" the darkness
          And to define a whole new set of boundaries
          And to usher in a new day of peace
          And prosperity
          That knows no limits
          And no age.


          Fight back, fight back,
          Courage is the defining line,
          Push back, push back,
          Rise up with Me and dine.


          Sheila Willar - 20170515
               

          Column


          Revelation 1:8 (KJV)


          I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, saith the Lord, which is, and which was, and is to come, the Almighty.



          Job 32:8,9 (KJV)


          But there is a spirit in man: and the inspiration of the Almighty giveth them understanding. Great men are not always wise: neither do the aged understand judgement.    





          Copyright 2023 Sheila Willar


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