THE TIME CAPSULE - Norman Smith D.

Скачать книгу

if by chance you heed not my warning,

      Or if my light you do not see;

      If you should fall victim to this dismal shore

      And run aground or smash upon

      A treacherous rock,

      Then in earnest may God your pilot be

      And guard you to safety.

      Traveling

      Traveling, traveling, I am still traveling on.

      With grim determination I must travel on

      Along this road of life, where most of the journey

      Is a challenging hill

      With its many perilous precipices,

      landslides, quicksand, and mire.

      I must take heed and plant my feet firmly

      Where they will not slip,

      Lest I stumble and plunge to my death.

      I have met others on the way

      Who fell victim, lost their courage

      And laid down and perished

      Because their predecessors

      Left no tracks, no maps,

      Or landmarks for the journey

      Upon which they embarked.

      In that they lost their will to fight,

      They relinquished their hold on life

      And surrendered to death.

      But I refuse to grant death so vague a victory.

      No, not as long as I am able

      To breathe a single breath of air.

      I shall not cease until a victory I have won.

      Traveling, traveling, I must continue to travel on

      Visions of hope I now can see.

      Indeed, frequently they visit me

      Dreams of victory now dwell

      Where doubt and despair once resided.

      Faith and patience I have adopted

      For my companions and constant guides while I stride.

      Hand in hand we travel, side by side.

      As my strength decreases, my courage increases.

      When my weary feet falter and I stumble,

      I summon all my will

      To help me climb life’s challenging hill.

      Oftentimes I wonder

      If there is an end to life’s journey,

      Or just a new beginning of a different phase

      To a higher plane,

      And when all hope seems gone and burdened with gloom

      In the midst of all despair, there shines a gleam of hope.

      The sun begins to rise, peeping through the clouds,

      Shining its rays around. A welcoming sight to see.

      I gaze and gaze upon it,

      Transfixed with awe for some minutes,

      Suspended in time as if

      Time had stopped for a moment,

      When a gentle voice whispers to me and says,

      “Lo, I am with you always.”

      All along my journey my Savior was with me,

      And now a mountain to me

      Is just a valley, turned upside down.

      Far off in the distance, is that Mount Kilimanjaro?

      Or could it be the peak of Mount Everest I see?

      It really matters not to me,

      My guide and Savior travels with me.

      A Dreary Day

      Such a dreary day,

      On a cold and wintery December

      The sun stays in, it refuses to shine.

      Only its silhouette you can see,

      But not its rays on this wintery December,

      A dense blanket of cloud

      Offered itself, a shadow gloom.

      The wind lays still and silent.

      Not a moving patch of cloud,

      No fluttering of the leaves.

      The trees stand without a sway,

      No birds in the sky to hunt or play

      On this cold dreary day.

      The rain is falling constantly

      But never reaches the earth.

      It dissipates among the dreary dense clouds,

      Thus forming a fog.

      While down below us poor creatures feel

      We have been robbed, of our golden sunlight glow

      On this dreary wintery day.

      A Gift

      Look at what we have been given!

      A little speck of love from heaven,

      Sent to us that we should nurture.

      And that speck, with the proper care,

      May someday turn into a flame.

      A bonfire, or perhaps a wildfire.

      Whatever flame it may turn out to be,

      We must remember to handle it with care.

      That speck of love, with the proper care,

      May someday turn into a glowing star,

      Or perhaps a galaxy, or even the Milky Way.

      And so we nurture our speck of love

      With gentleness, for each other we care.

      Thus we toil, and with our hands

      We built ourselves a cottage.

      And there we watch

      Our love as it grows.

      Soon we produce children of love,

      And now with love we often pray.

      While we give thanks to the heavens

      For that little speck it has given.

      Now a family of love we share.

      Cherry Hill

      Cherry Hill on high, exhibiting her splendor,

      Boasting her charming view, dazzling the eyes

      At sunrise or at sunset.

      You will behold her at her best,

      And during the course of the day

      Her extraordinary beauty she displays.

      Beauty that upstages the neighboring view.

      Cherry Hill on high, where many are conceived

      And lots of fair maidens have been deceived.

      While cherries are being reaped

      Upon

Скачать книгу