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One never knows what one will get after posting a piece of work.
I could expect more from a box of chocolates.
I never know what to expect.
I’m often surprised.
Surprised by my disappointment, or maybe by an enjoyable comment,
but not surprised much, any more, by the usual (normal; to be expected?)
plain, every-day apathy.
What I kind-of hoped for was that a reader would notice the
abject hopelessness of the poem and ask if I were okay,
(it sure seems as though someone’s not okay)
ask if I needed prayer, offer an encouraging word,
or a word of wisdom.
(I, personally, don’t like missing
a chance to offer a word
out of compassion, sympathy,
or just empathy when someone
seems in despair.
I do miss chances, but don’t like it,
especially when due to my own neglect)
(I at least thought someone
would comment on the work itself,
for I judge it one of my best works
of lyrical poetry. Ahhh, well . . .)
After all, everyone wants to be
noticed,
attended to,
comforted,
consoled,
cared for,
defended,
liked,
loved,
understood,
commiserated with,
shown concern,
cared about,
soothed,
encouraged,
accepted,
included,
shown sympathy,
stood up for,
identified with,
rescued,
shown kindness,
and/or
shown just a touch of human tenderness.
Everyone – at least at some time during their lives,
whether they admit it or not.
It’s all right! I’m not in despair!
So how did I write “Cold” as though I were?
I wrote from a place I have been before.
Why did I risk going back to “that place” to possibly get stuck there again?
Why should I want to expose myself to those feelings again?
Because I’ve been saved from them. My despair has been redeemed!
I have no fear of it!
I wrote “Cold” mainly for those who haven’t been saved.
For them, for me, and for all of us.
I wrote it in memoriam for what once was, but is not now.
“Memoriam” = memory of I AM. (Ha! Yes!)
I write for those who live in despair, and fear, and hopelessness,
and who don’t yet know redemption.
So, you might ask, who is the missing “you”, the metaphoric one
to whom those desperate pleas are addressed?
Is it a lost love? Is it love itself?
It could be.
Is it “the one” who was never found, though constantly dreamed of?
The “one” deemed the answer to all problems, trials, and pain?
Is it a relationship? Is it a soul-mate, a friend, a heroic rescuer?
Is it a long-sought, ever longed-for but unknown lover?
Is it about bad decisions; wrong paths followed;
misplaced trust; looking for answers in the wrong places;
believing in a false Lord, or none at all?
It could be any or all of those.
The reader must decide.
(I’ll leave it to you to unravel the mystery of the “tapestry
of the Elven loom”.)
From my viewpoint, all the right answers, solutions;
the trust, love, belief, and salvation needed
are embodied in one person.
Jesus Christ, of the manger.
Jesus Christ, of the cross.
Jesus Christ, Lord of all.
Jesus Christ, who fills all the above human needs,
and with whom a relationship gives a joy
which covers sorrow and despair,
and which throws a rope of solid hope to anyone
mired in the quicksand of hopelessness.
~ ~ ~
Thank you, dear reader!
Your reading and sharing of my stuff
means more to me than you might be able to guess.
Thank you!
In closing:
“Just remember, every heart holds its sorrows,
yet every heart which knows The Highest Savior
also knows the hope that brings the upwelling of joy
that comforts sorrow and brings an exciting kind of peace.”
Gloryteller, 1-21-2014
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Jan 27, 2014 @ 20:03:16
I apologize, Len. I read that post. The writing was impeccable, so I knew you must have written it. I was flabbergasted. I tried to think of something to say, but I didn’t know what. I finally tiptoed away and prayed for you, just in case you were in need of comfort. I couldn’t understand how you could have fallen to such a depth of despair from a resting place so close to the heart of the Lord. Was I supposed to know that you weren’t writing about yourself? You surprised me, too. I thought there was something wrong with MY compass. The poem was another masterpiece, but like discovering a hurricane in Texas, or a dust storm in Florida. Blessings to you…
Jan 27, 2014 @ 23:49:04
Carol Ann! You never cease to amaze me. You are also one in a billion, which, along with Day, accounts for two billion out of the seven available!
I never doubted you, just thought you hadn’t read “Cold” yet. I thought of you when I wrote it, as being a sister who was also saved from despair by her faith.
“Every heart holds its sorrows”, however, joy is fresh every morning. Thank you for your prayers – I count on them and very much appreciate them.
Thank you for your well-worded paragraph, and for the encouraging compliments. I look to you as inspiration for the kind of writer I want to become.
Blessings, Miss Carol Ann!
Jan 27, 2014 @ 18:01:21
I appreciate your transparency and I enjoy your work. Keep sharing. If ten, fifty, a thousand, or no one reads it, if it is therapeutic to your soul to share it, I hope you will keep sharing.
Jan 27, 2014 @ 23:33:53
Day, you are one in a billion! Writing “Gloryteller” is my commission, so I intend to continue, no matter the numbers, the comments, or whether I get any personal attention. LOL. However, just a little human recognition goes a long way to make a writer feel not so all alone. As you know, writing is best done in isolation, and isolation is fertile ground for creativity. The Creator would be First to confirm that, I think. Do you agree, Lord?
A billion thanks, Miss Day!
Many blessings to you and G. B.