Friday, January 1, 2016

Without It ...

Without It ...

By Seah Greenhorn
(Poem with copyright)



Without it...

we're empty vessels.
Hopes on hold.
Waiting souls.

Then something miraculous
unfolds. We're given spirit--
the breath of life.
Entities become.
Setting goals.

Each day now
with a chance to partake

make
imprints

not in sand
to wash away;

though under
glorious moons
partial or full
or blazing suns

fun is felt
by grateful
even ungrateful ones
in calming
forgiving grains.

To take a stand

after praying
for the far-sightedness
of a soaring eagle and
capabilities
of a thoughtful
rich man.

Or,
at the simple least:

Wisdom to
uplift your brother
by loving words
"as apples of gold"

and lending hands
to sooth and console.

Without it...

How do we praise
the Presenter of
"Every good gift
and every perfect
present."

It; they
are "from above,

coming down
from the Father
of the celestial lights,

who does not vary
or change
like the shifting shadows."

He is
the Giver of Life.

Without it...

we simply
do not
exist?

We simply
do not exist.