My Child Interrupted

“But perhaps this dark night of the soul has a purpose and a reason”

The churning waters were
billowing on the face of the

In the darkness of swelling

Swirling in the deep abyss
Crying aloud with groaning
waiting to give birth and be

Before God speaks His word
“Let there be light and life
on earth”
my existence is in His thoughts

He patterns my form when yet
there is none

A seed plunges into the
darkness of the womb,
two beings creating a separate
being as they embrace in a
moment of bliss

In an instant His pattern for
my life is written in indelible

The beginning of a tiny infant
not fully formed is immersed
in the embryonic fluids

Each part is fashioned by
His hand and my heart begins
pulsating life

His plan for my life is
skillfully wrought in the lowest
parts of the earth

But who am I to question why
I am cast into circumstances
beyond my control?

The chosen vessel carrying me
is frightened as her only
awareness of love is of abuse
and neglect

Her thoughts are permeated
into my small mind being
knitted together, as sinews and
flesh are fashioned about my
tiny body

The cells of my being are engulfed
with her memories of long ago
While the blood racing through
,her body feeds the embryo with
a frightening adrenalin rush

I have to wait in that darkness
just as the seed must wait for
the nurturing acts of God to
call forth life

I am called and reluctantly enter
this world

My first glimpse of life is not
pleasant to my childish nature,
I question as Job, “Why did I
not die at birth?”

“Why did I not perish before I
was born?”

A wall of separation comes
,crashing down, planting its
steel bars deep into the chasm

of the earth
culminating in an abrupt
interruption of time

You have said I must become
as a little child, must I go back
to the very beginning of

Must I have the mind of a babe
unmindful of its surroundings
content to exist in each stage
of formation?

If I could only shut my eyes
and reflect on the innocent
mind of a child bathed in
quintessential peace and

To be freed of these scattered
thoughts that take me captive
to another world of doubt and
quenching the Spirit and nullifying
the goodness of God

I am helpless to know the answer
to these questionings, it is as if I
were being drawn into a darkness
of which I am powerless

But perhaps this dark night of
the soul has a purpose and a

that I need to embrace this
darkness as the nocturnal labor
pains of life experiences bring
healing and comfort to –
My child interrupted!

Ponderings and Promises

“For the promise is true…I will save your children”

This seventy years of
And counting,
Declared upon your
An Iliad of wars in
A milestone of
My journey has been
Long and laborious
This curse hard to bear
Many a day and night
I have been in despair
To your people was not the
Promise given to all those
Who listened?
Crying unto You your
Face was not hidden,
For You do not lie
Your grace is forgiving
‘Turn to me with all your
Heart and I will bless my
The burden of the switch
Will surely be lifted the
Sins upon the fathers
No longer visited
Why have the dregs of the
Bottle been wasted
Copious amounts
sparkling, swirling upon
The lips stained with the
Flame of scarlet ribbons
How smoothly and
Tantalizing it goes down
But a mockery to those
In its sorrows drowning
And I, am I any better?
From the bottle I have
But am I not much more
To blame?
Oh that I could taste the
Drains of the vintage
And flee from this world
And it’s pain
But this is not my chosen
Now seeking solace in
Thoughts and dreams
Charmed with the
Opiates of utopia
Wasting into dystopia
My heart in numbness
Drunk with musings,
My children could be
Bought with pinings
And bargainings
What sacrifice can I
Offer upon Your altar?
As Job of old after a night
Of feasting, morning
And evening raising
His voice in prayer
His children would be
To your promise I cling
With wailing, do not let
Their foot stray
Bring them back from
Their wayward ways
Oh you Wiley One,
You shall not win,
The victory over them
Has been won
For the promise is true,
“I will contend with him
Who contends with them
And I will save your children.”*
*’Book of Isaiah ‘
Chapter 49:25

The Prodigal Mother

“Mother had had enough, she couldn’t take it any more…
Her wild desires are more important than her child”
  • School is a difficult day after
    The night before, words
    Were confusing, people screaming,
    Bottles strewn upon the floor.
    What are these people doing
    That is so distressing?

    No time for breakfast, she runs
    Out the door, fearing she will
    Be late. She can’t remember
    When she last ate.

    Taking a seat on the bus, the
    Girls laugh at her hair and
    Clothes. Standing at the board,
    The teacher shames her for the
    Questions she does not know.

    The bell rings, but she is afraid 
    To go home. Each time she goes
    She is not sure what she will

    Reluctantly opening the door,
    Gathering courage to walk in,
    It is strangely quiet, as she calls
    For her mother.

    Going from room to room, panic
    Sets in, calling louder than she did
    Before.  Mother had had enough
    She couldn’t take it anymore.
    Her wild desires are more important
    Than her child.

    Tears begin to fall, ‘If she had only
    Been better, if she had only been
    Good, it is her fault that mother has

    In the land of Ephraim a prophet
    Dwells, he has a special message
    Given by God to share with his

    Hosea is distraught, they would
    Not believe his word, even though
    He plead with them night and day,
    To return to God. Finally he pleads 
    “Surely God, you can strike them

    God sitting quietly by is horrified
    At Hosea’s words. But He has a plan
    For Hosea, strange and hard to
    Understand. He is told to marry a
    Woman from another land.

    A woman who does not love His
    God. His eyes are big and wide.
    Where shall he go to find this

    Knocking on doors, asking those
    He sees, “Where can I find this
    Woman God has for me?”

    Coming to a tavern in the late
    Hours of the night, tables are lit by

    He is directed to a brothel where
    She sits drinking wine, dressed in
    Red satin and enticing. He is not sure
    But He follows God’s plan.

    Taking her home to be his wife,
    She bares his children, teaching
    Them wrong things, taking them
    To strange altars to pray.

    She is not happy with Hosea and 
    Her children, and one day returns
    To her evil ways.

    Hosea loves his children even
    Though they do wrong, he feeds
    Them and clothes them, his love
    Is so strong.

    This is a story told, a special lesson
    Taught, though sometimes God’s
    Children disobey, He never leaves
    Or forsakes them!

    Story from ‘The Book of Hosea’
    in God’s word


The Scarlet Cord

Peering out her window, where a red rose hung
the night before, she is anxious, for she has a
special errand to run, to replace this rose with
a scarlet cord.

“Her house is small, sitting high on the city wall,
It has been a long night as soldiers sit about campfires,
Talking, glancing at the house, snickering and laughing,
Rahab the Harlot lives here!”

Words from The Scarlet Cord set to poetic verse

Love Letters To My Daddy #2

“Well Daddy you would have been proud of me,
I learned to survive”

  • Well, after my visit I went back
    home and as usual we began moving
    around from town to town,
    schools had rules and I had to relearn
    each one.
    I got into trouble Daddy, when I came
    back, I started chasing around, doing
    stupid things that you can only do in a
    mining town, with gambling, bars and
    Those evil men did things to me that
    were not right. Many times I was up all
    night. Often there was no food.
    Sometimes if I was lucky a can of Dinty
    Moore Stew would do.
    I’m so glad you didn’t know this, your heart
    would have been broken in two, for all
    your child went through.
    But I wouldn’t be honest if I denied my
    anger. Where were you when I needed
    protection from danger?
    But Daddy, you would have been proud
    of me, I learned to survive.
    It is amazing what children can do
    when they try. I tried many things to
    protect myself.
    They were not the smart thing to do,
    but it was all I knew.
    I developed a set of rules to deal with
    the craziness of things. I somehow got
    through the years but there were many
    I had difficulties with Mama. She was
    unbearable to live with and I wanted
    out of the trauma.
    She kept going into those buildings with
    flashing lights for hours. I stared in the
    windows waiting for her to come out,
    but she would never win those games
    she played, even though she would go
    every day.
    I thought the way was to get married at
    sixteen, and before you knew it I had
    two babies living in a mining town.
    But I knew in my heart I would never
    raise them like me. 
    Well, this is pretty long and you have
    bent your ear to hear this story.
    You know Daddy, I really appreciate you
    listening now, since you didn’t hear or
    see me when I was a child.
    Oh, and one thing I forgot to mention,
    there will be mistakes in these letters,
    since they are written from a little girl’s
    even though I’m a grown up now.
    I know you loved me Daddy, you just didn’t
    know what to do, your illness kept us apart.
    Well, I will visit you again soon, I have much
    more to say to you!

Love Letters To My Daddy

Daddy, you were bombed last night.
I remember windows reflecting
Light, the morning after, as I quietly come
To see if you are alright. Hiding behind a
Newspaper, you are unable to look in
Your little girl’s eyes. Slowly moving to your
Side I want to say, “please, don’t send
Me away.”
Alcohol vapors from a glass sting my nose.
Oh Daddy, you were the one, with the
Clickety-click-click of the tongue and the
The crazy songs you sung. Where did Mama
Go? I think she got tired and left.
I remember her pouring water from bottles
Down the drain, but it had a funny smell,
I really couldn’t tell.
Who is this strange lady in your house?
The one wearing a negligee. You both
Swing and sway from room to room,
Then pass out on the bed. Sounds of
Heavy breathing are alarming, I am
Confused and don’t know what to do.
I begged you not to drink. I’m sorry I
Made you drink.
Well my visit with you is almost done,
And I will soon be sent away. Really
Daddy, will you send me back to
Those abusers and their evil ways?
Oh, I don’t understand, I didn’t
Think you loved me, but now I
Know you did, you were just too
Sick, you couldn’t do any better.
Oh, don’t make me leave, don’t make
Me go back to that smelly shack.
Your pungent smell of vinegar, cukes
And alcohol are better that that.
That fifth of whiskey made you awful
Thirsty, remember how you swerved
On those LA freeways, taking me to
The bus, not a word was said between
The roar of the engines and exhaust
Fumes, carried me to a place I would
Rather not go.
Well Daddy, I remember these things
Whether you do or not. So I am
Writing you some letters, in the hope
To be free of the pain they have

“Oh Daddy, you were the one with the clickety-click- click of the tongue”