A Poem that Does NOT Reflect How I Feel Most of the Time

Hi everyone.

I am in Romania at the moment and having an incredible time. I hope to write about it soon. In the meantime, here’s a nice little poem that I wrote recently. It depicts the frustration I feel SOME of the time while waiting on God for answers. Enjoy. Ponder. Critique. Comment.

Hush, she says, and clucks her tongue
Brows knotted as her chair complains
She bristles at my zealous pains
“Too many times that song I sung”

Undeterred by elders’ jade
Or blinded by trite disregard
Zebedee’s sons prostrate their hearts
N’er saw these streets more pious faith

And at first eve their souls lament
Why doted power treats them thus
But dawn’s revival spawns robust
Surely silence only lent

Mirages of the answers sought
Barrage the seekers’ valiant rev’rence
Unfulfilled and denied sev’rence
As time and deity proffer naught

But let the sages speak of faith
And let the days grow into years
When the dust begins to clear
No zealots bear the lines of age

As (our) desires mature with time
Our bent no longer for ascent
Mere resolution’s restful end
Would our despondence satisfy

And so we wait
To comprehend the climax which we crave


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