How Will You Face Your Death? (Tell His Story)

 

Do you think about the day

that you'll be heading home?

Do you think about the way

you'll face that great unknown,

the door between this mortal place 

and the life to come?

Will you want to stand and face

that portal as it's swung,

or like me, would you close your eyes,

and wait for Heaven's morning breeze,

familiar yet a great surprise

and it whispers through the rustling trees,

far past life and far past death,

the benison of Holy Breath?

Sylvia will keep her eyes open, thank you very much, to try to quickly score some ice cream.

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Valhalla Awaits

 Obnoxious chest-thumping, self-delusion, or total immaturity?

Or a dawning comprehension of what's real?

I stand, and standing prove my worth,

and need not bow my head in shame.

Colossus, I bestride the Earth

and demons tremble at my name,

for I have fought through their abyss 

and left their entrails on the walls,

but let me here not be remiss,

for I well know the Voice that calls

my heart and soul into the fight,

with joyousness upwelling,

for I am drawn up to the light

and there will be a tale worth telling

as Valhalla rises near

with banquet tables slicked by beer.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is VOID.

Yesterday I was annoyed,

and threw a tantrum here.

Life itself felt like a void

when I ran out of beer.

Oh, sure, there was fizzy pop

and a box of wine,

but my anguish would not stop,

and I made it mine,

clutching grievance to my soul,

raging to the sky

that the day could not be whole,

and then I did espy

a fresh unopened case of Bud

and the day got really good.

Three minutes flat, but the beer's foaming in delight!

Beer and ice cream, says Sylvia.

Golden Rules (Tell His Story)

 Still down with the longest flu I've ever had, but I'll throw this out there...

Be magnanimous in victory.

Be gracious in defeat.

Share ice cream (Sylvia, how did you sneak that in?).

And move on.

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The Space Between

I've been running really high fevers lately, and Reality is starting to break through the edges of my orderly little life.

I have now spent quite awhile 

'tween this world and the next.

I'm really going out in style,

and wish I could but text

you of the wonders that I see,

flying dogs and long-lost friends,

Apostles and the Trinity,

and a grand pub-crawl that never ends.

There's Jesus on the rifle range...

BOOM! What the heck, He MISSED?

That is really very strange,

and now He doth insist 

that I take His piece and try the thing,

and I break the heart of the ten-ring.

There is so much more, though, angels ascending and descending, swirling noise and colours you can smell and taste, laughter and love and fistfights, a cacophony of epiphany.

And a message to bring back:

Be graceful in defeat, and magnanimous in victory.

The Five Minute Friday Prompt this week is TOWARD.

All I can offer is a haiku.

As ice presses toward victory,

the spring waits in the sky

with a smile.

Sylvia takes it for granted that there's Foster's-flavoured ice cream.

Over To You (Tell His Story)

Been running a high fever for a few days, so coherency is an issue.

But I can't leave you without a starter for conversation, so...

What's you favourite Beatles song?

Here's mine

The video is charming.

Sylvia likes it too.

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