Remember

I cannot look

At photographs

That haunt or chill

My thoughts.

Seeing pictures,

Reading words

Hurt too much,

And so they ought.

 

Depicting something

Lost but loved,

Someone,

Who had to part,

Who held me in

A soft embrace,

Tender tended

To my heart.

 

Dead to life,

To earthly plain,

Another’s grief, a

Punished pain.

Remembrance all

In mindful mourning.

November looms,

The day is dawning.

Advertisement

The Prodigal Son/Daughter – Revisited

The Prodigal Son/Daughter  (11-10-07)

There was once a woman who was left to raise her children on her own. She worked hard to try to make sure that the absence of a father in their lives would not mean that they went without. She gave them guidance and love and watched over them as if with the careful eyes of two parents.

Her youngest child got into a bad crowd and started to drink although he was too young to do so. He came home frequently too drunk to speak, except words of hurt and violence. He missed school and government bodies started to look closely at the parenting skills of the mother. They recognized that she was doing her best as her elder child was not giving her the same worries. They offered support and intervention but nothing seemed to penetrate the sense of the younger child.

Things went from bad to worse. Exam results were no good, attendance at school was at an all-time low and the police had even come calling; threatening her child with an anti-social behaviour order.

The mother cried and pleaded and prayed. One night, while the son was out drinking with some friends, they got into a fight with another crowd and some people were badly hurt. The younger child was stabbed in the leg and found by the police and taken to hospital.

The mother was called and rushed to the hospital where she kept a vigil by her son’s side until he awoke.

When he did he looked at his mother’s face and into her eyes and wept for the hurt he had caused her and the life he was leading.

On his release from hospital he went home and began to change his ways. His mother rewarded him with a laptop which she paid for so that he could study more easily and have another interest.

The elder son was angry at this and said,

‘You’re always saying how hard it is to manage on what you’ve got coming in. I give you what I can but he’s never given you a penny. Now you’ve taken out credit to buy something for him he doesn’t deserve. How is that fair?’

His mother held his two hands between hers and said,

‘You’ve never given me a moment of unnecessary worry. Your character is strong and with purpose. Your brother lost the plot for a long time and I thought he would end up in prison or dead. He’s with us again as he used to be – stronger now for what he has experienced. You both have all my love always. But when one needs me more than another, at a given time, it is that one whose needs I best try to fulfill. It takes nothing away from you and gives him the chance of a new life. And us too. For what would our lives have been with the loss of a son and a brother?’

The elder son cried and held his mother to him , understanding better the meaning of love.

Baptism

His eyes looked kindly on me

His tenderness sublime

His presence is my heaven

All this already mine.

I wish to rest amid this joy

And never here depart

But the earthly call will lead me on

And test my wounded heart.

For a while I will remember

All that I here hold dear

But life will overtake me

And fill my heart with fear.

My loving Father calls me

And sends me on my way

‘Work for humankind, my child

And then come home to stay.’

I long to hold his hand to mine

And ask simply to remain

But to stay without being tested

Just would not be the same.

The grace I feel within his sight

I cannot live without

I fear my absence from his face

Will fill my life with doubt.

At first the loss is just too great

I look for what is gone

In distant corners of a room

The pain of being born.

Time moves on and healing comes

In love that tends my needs

The knowledge goes and doubts creep in

Despite the hand that feeds.

I need God’s grace to run this race

I need His presence near.

I cannot face this life without

His voice within my ear.

The emptiness of life without

A God to call your own

Is filled with frantic moments

Faith has not been sown.

Baptise me as an infant

When my knowledge is still here

Plant a seed that I can cherish

When my heart is filled with fear.

I will doubt and I will wander

While I sojourn on this earth

But I will have a gift from God

To help me on my path.

And when I can return to Him

As, God I pray I will,

He will smile upon me

And with tenderness me fill.

The longing that I knew at birth

Will circle once around

Till home at last I am with Him

Home from testing ground.

Without His grace along the way

I fear I would have lost

The greatest love I’ve ever known

The hell of such a cost.

(3-3-05)