The Poetry Corner

Despite my best efforts to be disciplined, I am not doing so well with my resolution to add a weekly post to this blog.

I am being reminded why I have never amounted to anything as a writer. It's that pesky discipline thing. There are always a thousand other things you should be doing, and the people in your life are always tugging you in different directions.

To find a few moments of peace, and the energy and inspiration to say anything remotely worthwhile at the same time, just doesn't happen too often.

Hence, the importance of discipline. Which I sorely lack.

Anyway, for today I shall cheat, and post an old poem, instead of conjuring up new words of wisdom.

Do not be alarmed. I write very little poetry, and most of what I do write will never see the light of day. The world is drowning in bad poetry, and I have no desire to add to the cesspool. However, once in a great while something pops out that I feel must be a gift from God, because it just rings so true.

The Lord has led me through some troubled times on my journey, many of my own foolish making. As I look back, I am thankful for the wonderful people he has brought across my path to minister to me when I needed extra attention.

Nickee was one of those people, a very kind woman who befriended me at work when I was struggling mightily through a long period of doubt and depression. Hence the title of the poem. Don't read too much into this. There was nothing unseemly or illicit going on. This was a nice platonic relationship, among several good friendships that I have enjoyed with some kind women at different times in my life.

God is good, and he has been very good to me. So, without further blather, the post for this week...

With Thanks to Nicole

Sometime in a dark little room God will place you
when your heart is all tatter and fray
so that all of the sorrows of life come to face you
while there's no room for running away.

There are shadows of darkness that forever could blind you
and make you forget what you've known.
There are terrors in darkness just waiting to find you
defenseless and tired and alone.

When dreams turn to ashes too many to bury
and grief covers hope like a shroud,
you can give up your heart; it's too heavy to carry --
too stubborn, too cold and too proud.

Yet hope whispers softly, faith flickers undaunted,
though there's no air to breathe anymore.
Then the God of all comfort, who now has what he wanted
sends an angel to open the door.