“And then one day I was stricken with a God given direction”
You know Daddy,
I had no other place to go, other Than where you had gone, And that was not an option.
As I said, “ I will choose a better Way than yours. My deepest desire Was to go in a different direction Than the one you had chosen. ~~~~
Did you think one more drink Would make you better? Like me, one more prayer would Make you care?
Sitting in a pew, looking for you, That I had been guided to, the Organ struck the chords as from The hymnal I sang. I knew this Was the answer to all of my Questionings. My heart rejoiced And I was truly blessed. ~~~~
I was ushered into a cathedral Filled with mighty crescendos. Then guided to the altar, I Faltered at the solemnity of This place.
It is hard to explain from where This came. You know we had no values, or religious ties.
I felt I had arrived!
But it wasn’t something that came From me, there was a Higher source To rescue me.
Of course the enemy was angry That I had been delivered from Our life of hell, Coming in like a thief to control me, With words I find it hard to tell.
I had always feared I would turn Out like mama, and her crazy Ways, and now I was afflicted with A mental illness of doubt and fear.
Thoughts were tormenting and Not my own. Like an arrow shot Through my head. I tried, as I fled from this body of mine.
Threatening the very depths of Darkness deep within. In a fragile State, Waiting to be freed from Chains that bound me with The enemy’s lies.
Little did I know there Was a battle to be fought, Through this journey of Mental illness That plagued my life!
But I was never alone, in The midst of all of this, I Was given strength to carry on!
Well Daddy, here I am again. I’ve Been thinking about what I said.
I know it sounds pretty sad and I have tried to think of some words To make you glad.
Wow, Daddy the nightmares Were bad and fearful thoughts Struck my mind. They just Wouldn’t stop.
I felt shame most of the time. Why does it matter? Why do I dread The thoughts of Others?
Maybe because mine had been Shattered and only theirs mattered?
Then there was placed in my heart A desire to do differently.
I had a glimpse of something better. A candle is lit bursting into flame. I then had hope to be delivered From this shame.
Choosing an austere journey, one Of piety and devotion, I was sure this was the solution. But I was confused between you And God, I was mixed up and thought He was like you, never here. It was never clear.
I knew about love in my head, but Couldn’t seem to feel it in my heart.
And after awhile the thoughts Became even more frightening.
Daddy, even though I had sworn Not to follow you, I found myself Doing it, only in a different way. My way was safe I thought!
“A daughter’s words to her daddy from a little girl’s heart”
With love from a long time ago
Letter #1
With Father’s Day just around the corner I find myself Having memories of a father of long ago. At least once or twice I remember sending a letter over the years to the resting place where he is buried. And of course receiving no reply. But that wasn’t unusual, I usually had no reply when he was here on earth. Come to find out, I’m not the only one that has done this. It is common for others to do it as well. I’m not sure what the caretakers do with them or where they direct these letters. They may open and read them, then dispose them, or maybe they don’t bother at all. I have vivid memories of negative events far out weighing positive ones, I don’t know why this is (there had to be some good ones), from a step mother In a a blue negligee floating from room to room in a drunken stupor, leaving me wondering where my mother had gone. From my father weaving in and out of cars on the freeway, stopping for a drink of whiskey from a bottle hidden under his seat. Taking me to the bus where I would have to go back to a scenario worse than this one I was leaving. Much later in life I wrote a series of letters to my father, working through emotional issues long over due. I have called them my
‘Love letters to Daddy’ They are short letters, six in all, and I have wondered whether I should post them all together or separately, and have decided to share them one by one, since the words did not all come to mind at once, I had to put them together slowly. There was no hurrying the process of working through emotional issues that had been buried deeply over many years, I had to recreate the image that I had imagined in my mind, to One that is loving and kind!
“Oh Daddy, you were the one with the clickity-click-click of the tongue”
and the crazy songs you sung!
Love Letter #1
Daddy, you were bombed last night! Walking into the kitchen the Morning after, light reflects you In the breakfast nook, as I quietly Enter to see if you are alright.
You are hiding behind the newspaper And unable to notice your daughter. Alcohol vapors sting my nose, you don’t See me, as if I don’t exist.
Oh Daddy, you were the one With the clickity-click-click of the Tongue and 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 couldn’t really tell.
Who is this strange lady in our House, the one wearing a blue 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. Viciousness in the kitchen the day You staggered across the kitchen Floor.
A pressure pot of beans exploding On the ceiling sending you to the Hospital reeling. I begged you not to drink, but you Once again began to sink, I’ m sorry Daddy I made you drink.
Well, my visit with you is almost done And my time is spent, I will soon be Sent away. Really Daddy, will you send me back To those abusers and their evil ways? Aww, please, why do you let them Do this to me? I really don’t think I can Take much more.
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 than that.
But my pleas were ignored, you were Just too sick to have me around. That fifth of whiskey made you awful Thirsty as you hid the bottles in Cabinets and drawers.
Remember how you swerved on those LA freeways taking me to the bus, Without a sound between us? The roar of the engines and exhaust Fumes making me sick, carry me to A place I would rather not go.
Finally climbing the steps, crying, Unaware of the effects on an innocent Child from no where.
Well Daddy, I remember these Things whether you do or not, so I am Writing these letters in hope to be Freed of the pain that was caused!
“Two men came to Jericho and went to the house of Rahab”
From The Book of Joshua
The Scarlet Cord
Her house is small, sitting High on the side of 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!
Dawn begins to break, as the Last red glow of fire embers Die to the earth.
She has had a hard time Sleeping, and rising early, She veils her face. For no one Must see this woman of disgrace, As she runs along the city wall And down the stairs, into the Cities’ streets.
Peering out her window, 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.
Dropping her few meager coins Along the way, she leans down, Clutching them as she runs over Cobblestone streets, into the very Heart of this city still asleep.
The blue glow of the horizon gently Fades in the distance, as light Softly appears. She is heading for the market place just before dawn…
There had been men in her city Just the night before, They came from another land, a Large nation, who had been led By God’s own hand…
The noise is loud, people selling Their goods, people praying, Children crying, animals brawling. This day she quietly slips through The crowds, going to market, to Secure a cord of scarlet.
Tables laden with fruits, pomegranates In rich red hues, spices from the East, dates and raisin cakes, amongst Onions and leeks. Lentils and beans And loaves of bread, colorful skirts, Sandals and shoes, young girls Dancing to fiddles and flutes.
But these things are not what she is Looking for, among all of these wares, A simple ribbon of colorful threads Is her desire and prayer…
“The woman, who had taken the two men and hidden them on her roof among the stalks of flax… then she hung a scarlet cord from her window, that they could escape.
“Tighter yet, holding her veil Against her head, She slowly drifts from table to table”
Quietly bearing the shame of Her reputation. The best threads must be Purchased to fill this need, Threads of scarlet interwoven With gold…even as a little girl, Watching her mother do her Trade, she had wanted Something better. When she had become older She had continued what had Been handed down from Mother to daughter… Looking down, one table Catches her eye, there lies a Cord, just the right one, coins Tightly held are released and She hurry’s back home… The sun is rising, the sleeping City awakens, as she passes Worshipers climbing steps to Strange altars, bringing food to Appease their gods. Garlands of flowers to hang on These idols, breads and fruits To place by their sides… She has never felt at ease, even As a little girl, kneeling before These gods with closed eyes, Who cannot see, trying to please Them with words and prayers They don’t hear or believe. Arriving home, the cord is Placed in her window, that Rahab and her family may be Spared, when the city of Jericho is surrounded by God’s army!
This story is written in prose and poetry by the author, from Her book ‘The Scarlet Cord’ Available on Amazon
“A Name Is Chosen, Ruth The Moabites, For She is Born In Moab”
This is the beginning of a series of spiritual stories of Biblical characters I have written in prose and poetry, hoping to give inspiration and faith, to help us in our spiritual journey through life.
“The book of Ruth is a story of love and devotion, inspiring all to be faithful to God”
A Moabite woman who forsakes her pagan heritage
Part One
Among a mountainous area of an
Ancient land lies the country of
Moab. The hillsides are
Dotted with the green of myrtle and
Olive and flowers of the ‘Star Of
Bethlehem.’
There is a river called the Jordan
River that flows south through
This land into the Dead Sea. Now
The reason the sea is called dead
Is because water flows in but does
Not flow out and it is full of salt…
Not much grows here but a few
Strange plants, cacti and succulent
Growing on arid land…
Children have fun even though they
Cannot swim, but float in the water.
****
Small, sunbaked homes in this town
Are made of stucco and yellow straw
And have flat roofs opening into a
Courtyard and cobblestone streets.
Bright pink and red bougainvillea
Climb along the walls and yellow
Forsythia welcome spring.
Spring is a happy time in nearby
Fields, seed is sown of barley and rye.
It seems it always rains when the seed
Is planted and there is plenty of water…
****
The evening is sultry, too warm to
Sleep, quietly she stirs as she labors to
Walk stone stairs to the roof, to escape
The heat, to lay in the coolness and
Look at the stars…she rolls to her side
As she lays in wait, to give birth to her
Child…a cry is heard as pain begins,
A child is about to be born…
“Her Mother Quickly Gathers Sticks That She May Bake Bread”
December 14, 2023 It is so easy to get caught up in the rush of the holidays. Forgetting to take time to prepare our hearts for the real reason for the season!
“Watch and pray with your lamps trimmed and burning”
There is a story told long ago in an
Ancient land, of a village set on a hill
The sun was setting and the shadows
Gathering, and light streaming
From the windows of a house full of
Laughter.
Ten young virgins are sewing their gowns
Of silk and lace. There is excitement in
The air as people wait for a marriage
Procession to take place.
A bride is waiting for her groom!
The night is far spent, and weary of the
Wait they all fell asleep. At midnight there is heard
On this eve, the Holy Sabbath hours have descended upon our Earth, honoring the day God set aside for all to rest, just as He, after His beautiful creation week. Our world in all its Fallen condition, groans with labor pains, waiting for our Lord’s return, restoring rest and peace to all generations!
“Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy, six days you shall do all your work, but the Seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord your God Exodus 20:8-9
Heaven’s time is not in our time It is not limited to our space But extends beyond the Imaginings of the human mind To God a day is as a thousand Years in an eternity of bliss
“Trees And Flowers Nestled Among Mountains And Hills”
Once a pure and fruitful land With flowing rivers and springs Of life Trees and flowers nestled among Mountains and hills A delightful scene to meet the eye A young man and woman Fresh from the hand of God Flowing from the river of life Wonder who made such A lovely place for them to abide
At the setting of the sun In the coolness of the even
A Heavenly Man comes to Visit His children “Please tell us how all this
came to be?” Who created The land and the sea?”
“In the very beginning only
Darkness appeared, and Water covered the earth, it Was I who shut in the sea With doors, when it burst Forth, and I said “This far you May come but no farther, your Proud waves must stop”
Then out of nothing I made light It was I who commanded the Morning and caused the dawn to Know it’s place
It took just six days to create this World
And on the Seventh Day I rested
From all my works All was tranquil, calm and full Of peace And though I rejoice of all the Things I have done
My heart is sad I must create a people to Complete this week
And so you come from dust and clay
~~~~
Until one day you will disobey
Leaving your beloved home In that moment of time I will speak My sacred word, for my Words are always true
A promise I will give
“Though the gates of Eden will be
Locked Six thousand years will be allotted
To this earth“ For as my word says “A day of Creation equals a thousand years”*
You will go forth and till
The land, abundantly it will yield It’s fruit
But it will lose its strength plant and Seed will fade, unable to feed Those who hunger and thirst Water will be scarce Land unable to drink The taste of sweetness will Turn sour
The pollution of man will Destroy the earth with waste
Pestilence and plague will ravage
The land, but those who trust in Me will be spared
All creation will groan with labor pains Waiting to give birth
~~~~
A funeral will be declared An obituary written for a dying World
A pen dipped in black in Judgement and ashes
Recording the history of the
Human race From creation to the fall To the flood
Father Abraham to Moses
To a promised land
To a temple of splendor The prophets who pled With tears and cries To a Baby born, to a Savior Returning to take home His own
Your inheritance will be bequeathed
A last will and testament Left to you
A new world and its treasures
A year of Jubilee and healing visits the land
For all who honor me, will Enter my Sabbath day of rest**
Wait and watch for
No one knows the day nor the hour, Of Eden lost to Eden Restored, But Your God in heaven!
Donna's Poetry Blog 