The years will not be wasted . . .

Familiar
with the desert and its harsh existence burning sand and wind-worn hills
scavengers consuming the very existence giving little hope of a fertile land –

When an unexpected
hand reached down, a clearer picture
was seen with running streams and fruitful
plains! A rich banquet had been prepared with enough to spare!


Sitting on a bench reflecting
on her life, there is a longing in her heart
why had not her formative years been spared?

But the promise rang true
“The years the locust have eaten have not been wasted
they will be restored” **
The bumps and ridges of dry desert sand truly
had become bridges to a better land!

A Metaphoric Reflection


Her humble house stood in array
The kitchen table with empty chairs
is saddened, in the cupboards are
antagonists chewing

Lowly locusts with their flatulent bellies and
bulging eyes inch their way through grubby
cabinets . . . a cry is heard as smoke comes
through the door
It is sad, this house is now ashes
but it has to be

The scavengers of earth must bow in solemnity
to the sacred word

The cabinets are no longer stirring
gnawing has ceased as the locusts retreat

This girl of dust is no longer a wanderlust
Her house has become a home glowing
within, she would like to invite all to come
and eat, there is plenty of room at the table
A table draped in white linen, bread and
drink fully given, candlelight reflecting the
faces of those no longer hidden!


These are selected verses from my book
“The Wanderlust”
** The Book of Joel 2:25

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