Hope Whispers When It Speaks

Inperfect Prose

I spent many frightened nights
in a stupor creeping down the stairs
with the subtlety of snow
drifting to my father's bedside
afraid to truly awaken him
yet softly calling his name
and tapping his arm
as uncertain as a scarf in the breeze
I stood there for what seemed to be hours
waiting for him to notice me
like I had done so many times before
but he never did
years later he still never knew
of my presence those weary nights
yet I had been there
just the same.




"Hope is faith holding out its hand in the dark."  ~George Lles

Life can be hard, and sometimes it can seem too uncertain, but I have learned that no matter how difficult it may be...there is always hope...we just loose sight of it sometimes.  Like dry land to a sailor, we venture beyond the horizon, but that does not mean that the land vanished from exhistance, only that it is out of our direct sight.  The continent of hope still rests on the oceans of our life.

A Certain Suffering

"Sometimes my greatest sufferings in life have been like wearing stiletto heels, on the outside things look sharp and smooth, but on the inside my bunnions are crying for relief!"

Shiny and elegant is a stiletto heel, but frankly I don't like the way they feel.   I will take tennis shoes any day,  so I can move forward in comfort all the way.

I am no stranger to heartache, no one is, but I have found as time goes by, that holding on to the worries and struggles trying to fix them on my own only turns into creating more worries.  It is only when I let go, and rely on God's support, that I am able to find true comfort, and release.  Sometimes you just have to take the stiletto heels off, and take comfort in the humble simplicity of life that is all we need:

The grace of God.

Poets United Think Tank Prompt #11 Pain

Just Breath

Magpie #28

I layed there

still like stone

and slow like callus

waiting for

the ripples

to smooth out

like sheets.

I spent many years hoping for things to go smooth, and afraid of life's troubles rippling out of control.  Now, I have come to understand that all the troubles are what have molded me, like smooth stones on a river. For as a result, I am a better person, a stronger woman, and capable of facing change.

Magpie Tales a wonderful site for writers!

The Slow Dance of Progress

Magpie # 27

It sways and reaches out like branches of a tree.

Ablaze with growth with flames that lap up all they see.

It's fervor kindles and molds forth like a lover's yearning embrace.

Creating something more that what once took it's place.

But in the gradual process of moving forward, pipes get rusty and foundations sway.

What we will not salvage, we choose to tear down and replace.

Gravel roads become cement byways.  There are parking lots where once was a grassy knoll.

Man's grand architecture is a hustle that steps on many toes.

It is two steps forward and then 3 steps back to the beat of fleeting time.

An awkward dance of stumbling that only man could design.

The true struggle of progression is where all of nature pays the ultimate cost.

For in all that man strives to gain, there is always something lost.

All We Can See

Poets United Think Tank Prompt # 10

In the midst of a heavy rain all we might see

is our good shoes getting wet

traveling down the desert path all we might see

is it is a long way to the river

at the end of a barrel of a gun all we might see

is all we love slipping away

staring down the trigger side of a gun all we might see

is everything we hate

at the edge of  mountain top all we might see

is how far we could fall

yet in the deep valley at our darkest place

all we can see

is the way up

and start searching for the light.

The Empty Room

This poem was written many years ago by my stepdaughter Amber.  She lost her oldest child when he was merely 2 years old, but his smile lives on in our all our hearts, and in Heaven.

What good is a bed where no one will sleep?

And an empty room where one person weeps?

What good is a shirt that no one will wear?

Attached to memories of someone not there.

What good is a toy with no one to play?

Where laughter once was, but did not stay.

What good is a book that sits unread?

Filled with words that are no longer said.

What good is a picture where no one smiles?

As good as a mother without a child.

By Amber Whitworth
Written for Seth 

A Stranger Unto God

Our hands hold the power to reach out and to receive

and so do our eyes to look up and to truly see

our feet possess the power to walk away

from the world's dangers

and so to our ears to hear and consider

the words of a gentle stranger

our tears contain the power to wash

the shroud that blocks the spirit's view

and so to our knees to kneel in darkness

and humbly find the truth

for each heart has the power to

hold what it has not

yet so many choose to simply be

a stranger unto God.

The Open Road

Poets United Thursday Think Tank Prompt # 9

When the world closes in on me like elevator doors

and life's troubles send me to the basement floor

one cure that rescues my spirits back up

is not an elixir you pour in a cup

you cannot buy it and place on a shelf

no roadmap or guiede book can really help

it is simply the freedom of the open road

that clears my mind and sooths my soul

it can be sunny or stormy weather

and if the destination is grandkids thats even better

I don't need to go far you see... I just need time to think

so give me the car keys and some gasoline.

I know to some this may sound very environmentaly unfriendly, but if it helps your view on it; I do recycle. :-)

The Cautious Gardener

Magpie #26 

An elegant crystal vase was gingerly stored on a hidden shelf in a paramount place.

Someone did not want a prize so precious to be disturbed or break.

These same prudent hands plant artificial roses in a real flower bed.

Her worn heart could not bear watering and tending just to risk one day finding them dead.

There are different degrees of loss; those we loose by chance, and the ones we loose by choice.

Both  hurtful, like a thorn, but one steals the experience of the rose and all it's joys.

Magpie Tales a great site for writers.

The Use of Big Words

arrogance
idolatry
jealousy
larceny
infidelity
negligence
felonious
polygynous
corruption
hupocrisy
guilty

Repentance...

....FORGIVENESS

Where The Danger Lies

It is not the rugged looking thug that we should fear facing, but the clever con artist we are ablivious to,
that makes us become vulnerable.
It is not our capacity to feel the suffering through our trials we should avoid,
but our ability to make ourselves numb to it, that makes us become indifferent.
It is not the narrow winding road that holds the danger,
but the easy straight way where we become complacent,
and that is where the danger lies.