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The storm came in the still of night,
not in stealth but with a terrible might,
proclaiming to one and all in its
path,
"You are all too late! Now face my wrath!"
The gates of hell opened with a fearful shout,
pouring churning,
foaming water all about,
burying trees and homes and sacred lives,
without any mercy for anything that thrives.
Mothers
gently singing their child to sleep,
fathers listening with a smile on their lip,
young and old, not a single soul
was spared,
as one by one, the giant waves ensnared.
Yet some are left behind by some strange fate,
lucky
or unlucky, they will never ever equate.
"Why them and not me?" Each ask in despair.
"If only I had embraced and showed
that I care.
Give me one more chance to speak of love,
just one precious moment, dear heaven above,
to let
me touch the hand that held me close
and speak the tender words only my heart knows."
Oh Lord, remind us to cherish
those around,
to treasure dreams and chase away their frown,
always be there to laugh and cry and cheer,
life's
many little blessings for those we hold dear.
A Leg Up
The evening was cool and cloudy
As I sat in silence by the window,
Remembering sweet memories of old
And
listening to the soft wind blow.
With a smile on my lips, I recalled
A small girl tiptoed on stacked-up chairs,
Stretching little fingers too short to reach
The big jar of rainbow gummy bears.
"Oh poor darling!" my mother
had cried,
Rushing to steady my seesaw perch.
Then with a gentle arm to hold me close,
She gave me a leg up to
end my search.
I laughed and cried as I recalled
How much nearer Heaven that inch made,
To grab a handful
of lovely sticky treats
Of green and blue and yellow and red.
Now outside, a young boy I spied
Dangling on
a limb from a giant tree,
Stretching his arm as far as he could reach,
A frightened kitten he was trying to free.
With a song in my heart, I flew
Using the same words my mother said,
"Let mummy give you a leg up, honey!"
And hoist him nearer Heaven as I prayed,
"Dear Lord, You gave me a leg up
So many times at work and at play
That I am reminded to share your love
With people I meet every single day."
Silent Protests
It is so unfair,
Why things are taken away
All the time from us
When we have so little.
Can we change
things
By moving from this blighted place
To start life afresh?
Will the cycle return?
Maybe we are left
here
To learn compassion,
In the very place where
Life's lessons are dished out.
But my child is crying,
My father is dying,
The locusts have come and gone,
And my wells are dry.
Where is compassion?
The
word is now foreign to me.
Despair presses me to the ground
And there is no room for others.
Help me, somebody!
Is anyone out there?
Can you hear the silent protests
Escaping with each gasp?
Hungry Ghosts
Each cycle, on the last stroke of midnight,
As the seventh moon cast its first light,
The gates of Hell spewed
forth the whole lot
Of hungry ghosts that Death had once caught.
Some were quite young, the poor lost souls;
Others
were old, as hideous as ghouls.
All wandered about, that very first night,
Without any aim, just shrouded from sight.
In silence, they floated to Earth from below,
Most landing in places where joss-sticks glow.
Appeased by food
offerings for the dead;
A sumptuous spread given out of dread.
For the Blind think that they can be spared
From
bad things that made everyone scared.
So night after night, all thirty in a row,
Tables were laden to make the spirits
crow.
Not just the spirits' hunger did they feed,
But also their time by yet another deed,
Staging songs and
dances of differing kinds,
They hope to divert the hungry ghosts' minds.
Gathered together, both the living and
the dead,
Sitting next to each other, with nothing said,
Just watching Chinese opera or other plays,
Until the
break of dawn; these went on for days.
At last, the thirtieth night ended and with a wail,
The sad, hungry ghosts
get sucked back to jail,
Leaving fat coffers brimming over with bills,
For talismans to drive away the hellish thrills.
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