Penance

 God's given me the City's keys,

and this I have been told,

that I need not walk on bended knees

upon the Streets of Gold,

for down here Someone did my time,

and paid my dues in full

for my grand-dad Adam's crime,

and that I need not pull

that weight of sin upon my back

up penance's hard cliff.

God will now give me the slack

to know the when (not if!)

of my arrival by His side 

as He beams and laughs with pride.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is EFFORT. I'll have a try.

There are times I wonder why

I still make an effort

to touch my blue and long-lost sky,

to find the joys I used to court

of flight in the empyrean,

dancing 'tween the clouds so white,

partaking of the golden dream,

the soaring soul, the gift of flight.

My body's burning down to ash,

and looking up just hurts my heart,

but I am not prepared to trash

that world of which I was a part,

so I'll believe just for today

that my Lord will make a way.

Here's a clip from The Mission that kinda describes what I mean.

Sylvia says the only panance I need practice is for the times I was slow in getting her ice cream.

The Ladder Of Success (Tell His Story)

 There is almost nothing sadder

(so few things at all!)

than placing your success-climb ladder 

against, yeah, the wrong wall

and looking over at a view 

you didn't need to see.

"What, oh, what, now, can I do,

what is there left for me?"

Well, you have climbed up this far

and made some muscles strong.

so tak a look at how things are

if you're not where you belong,

play the man, accept the pain,

and begin your climb again.

Sylvia's thoughts: "If there's no ice cream, you're in the wrong place."

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The Most And Least Of These

 

 

There are no problems for the rich,

they need not wear a frown,

but this week nature was a bitch,

and Malibu burned down.

The wealthy and their servants

were all one in the mass,

and if we are observant

this thought might come to pass,

that wealth is no protection 

from a world that's wrapped in flame,

and the only real suggestion 

is to hold fast to the name

of the One who calmed the seas,

who cares for 'most' and 'least' of these.

Sylvia would give out free ice cream.

Evangelical Fails (Tell His Story)

 Please, dear Lord, just let us rest

as this brand new year begins.

Please don't send another test

to remind us of our sins,

of how we stood while others turned

away from Love and Grace.

Our shuttered hearts should well have burned

resolute, that they might see your face.

We fear, I think what we'd be called

when You call us to evangelize,

and I believe You are appalled,

and golden tears form in Your eyes

to fall upon Heaven's bright street 

where His hope and despair meet.

Sylvia wags her tail in agreement, but then, she never shies away from encouragement, especially where ice cream's concerned.

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From Here To There

So what on earth is it about,

this starting of the year?

Will we ever figure out 

just how we arrived here,

with mindless hate and ISIS flags,

and fifteen disappeared,

and with their faces hid by rags,

many people cheered.

How do we live Christ's example,

how do we love the worst of these?

Is it normal or outlier sample,

can love cure this disease?

I don't know, but yet I care

to get from dreadful here to There.

Syl agrees, and might even share her ice cream, if it would help.

New Year's Resolution (Tell His Story)

Maybe the best New Year's promise is honestly.

I set my resolution

for the coming year

to show there's no solution 

in not showing fear,

for dread has gripped the heart of me,

and makes me want to fly

across some strange and distant sea

and bid cancer goodbye.

To deny this is untrue,

a weakness, not a strength,

and so I will pledge to you

to not go on at length

about the terrors that I feel,

but I will admit they're real.

Sylvia says, don't be afraid, Dad. God's here, and so am I.

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Boxing Day

 

Yes, it is hard to resist 

the siren call of Boxing Day

and the mighty thunder-fist

of the greatest, Cassius Clay,

who floated like a butterfly 

for all the sporting world to see,

far faster than the quickest eye,

stung just like an angry bee,

leaving losers sore amazed

(with the emphasis on 'sore'),

and the Lord God, to be praised,

saw the best, and raised up more

to challenge renamed Muh'mad Ali,

and so He set Mike Tyson free.

Granted, Mike Tyson never fought Muhammad Ali...but what a bout that would have been!

Sylvia thinks that Boxers are just econo-Pitties.