Tag Archive | beneath the world’s damage

What Message is Getting Through

Jun9
Photo by Eva Elijas on Pexels.com





There is deafening noise all around,
You cannot escape it wherever you are bound.
A violent roar angry, loud and explosive,
So loud, oh so loud, it turns into a weapon so corrosive.
Noise so big, so loud, so hot and molten,
Your message is lost to all, dispelled, no longer golden. 

There is violence in the streets below.
People breaking in, as people once friends turn to foes.
Glass shatters, bricks explode, fire flames and licks,
The guilty or innocent such destruction has no pick.
Businesses, homes, people damaged or wiped away,
Taken out by waves of fury again today.

There are tidal waves of age old lies,
How many deaths will be enough to die?
Leaders so corrupted they cannot smell their stench,
Plans roll out to which they've plied their wrench.
This has nothing to do with "we the people",
Much to do with the torn down steeple.

No longer can I hear the message,
No longer can I read the passage,
No longer can I find reason for sanity,
No longer do I see any recognization of dignity.
The locusts have passed again and again,
I cannot hear through their violent, wicked din.

There is one promise to which I cling,
One taste of tomorrow despite todays sting.
Jesus came and died, He the only perfect One,
He rose from death His victory won.
He is returning, He is coming back,
In Him alone resides all the understanding we lack.

Until then though I struggle to hear your voice,
Do you think there is another sane choice?
This paints a picture of evil reigning,
Of the worst of all humanity demanding,
Their way or no way, life or death,
It seems your intent to steal away our last breath.

There is deafening racket all around,
No escape no matter where you're bound.
A violent roar, angry, loud and explosive, 
So loud, oh so loud, it turns into a weapon so corrosive.
Noise so BIG, so LOUD, SO hot, SO molten, 
Your message is lost to all, dispelled, no longer golden.

----dfav
4/20/2021

			

			
						


	



			
				


	

		
The Pieces


					
Feb12
			


	

		
image 


They sat in the thrift store, rejects.




Priced to sell they’d been there too long.




People looked at them only

seeing,




Furniture with years of neglect.





 


Both were scarred, scratched and dented,




Frightening many a “do-it-over” shopper,


They passed over both pieces for others,




Ones who showed once they’d been loved.





 


Then a shopper came in and their eyes,




Saw beyond the dirt, gunk and grime.




She could see the cabinets had potential.




No question any longer they’d buy.





 


Purchased the plans were born,




Sanding, painting and repurpose them both.




Strip away the scars and scrapes.




No longer would they look so forlorn.





 


Outside in the clean of sunlight.




Something struck a chord in their head.




Maybe beneath all the apparent  ugliness




Lurked a stunning beauty hidden from sight?





 


Years of life with the living and aging,




Were washed away with a bit of scrub,




The new owner grew excited,




The cabinets were really the brass ring.





 


Oh, how beautiful the wood became!




As times damage and neglect oiled away.




And the scars and imperfections?




Revealed character that showed the same.





 


Again cared for, they sang a new song,




Their past became part of their charm.




The pieces stood up a bit taller,




New love had righted a wrong.





 


Care, tenderness and love were applied to the find




Knowledgeable hands cleared away years of regret,




She’d begun to think of Her Father.




Who looked at her with a filter so kind.





 


She too had her scars from life’s wars.




From years of pain and rejection inside.




Her heart had looked even more shabby,




From the time she’d spent near and far.





 


Then along came a Master of Love




Who asked her to come to His side,




And He began the process that would




Reveal the beauty He’d seen from above.





 


He treated her scratches and dents,




Wept as He washed over her scars,




His hands were firm but gentle.




Clearing away painful incidents.





 


When both pieces and His child




Stood again bravely and loved,




God knowingly nodded His head.




They bore with grace the marks of the wild.





 


We’re all like her furniture and this woman.




All beaten up, dented and bruised.




We all bear the gunk and grime of aging.




The signs of living with uncaring man.





 


Until Jesus comes along and sees us.




With eyes of understanding and love.




Seeing beyond the surface imperfections,




What needs only the Master’s touch.





 


What signs of life do you bear?




What gunk covers your soul?




What hides your true beauty?




Will you trust in the One who cares?





 


We all sit out in the darkness,




Until the Light of Love comes along,




And restores us with grace and mercy




By His blood and righteousness.




        d.f.a.v. 2/12/15




—Donna