life – penned in moon dust

Sands Of Time #life #hospice #poetry

January 30, 2020 by moondustwriter, posted in Photography, Poetry

I draw an endless line

I’ve forgotten where’s the start

fingers know the texture

lines drawn upon my heart

countless beyond measure

the sands beneath my feet

a child’s toes remember

sea memories so deep

I’ve drawn an endless line

forgotten where’s the start

at times I’ve lost all hope

those lines have etched my heart

a hand full of grains

unbidden do they fall

a place to return to

changeless after all

I’ve drawn an endless line

forgotten where’s the start

dreams to the four winds

poetry is my heart

today I sketch a new life

the dawn is just ahead

new hope in the making

the sand my faithful friend

I draw an endless line

forgotten where’s the start

fingers know the texture

lines drawn upon my heart

A dear patient passed two years ago today. Hospice is a hard world. Each caregiver/nurse gives a piece of heart. Thankfully like the sand there are many pieces. Thank you for reading…

Stepping Stones #poetry #photography #writing

December 17, 2018 by moondustwriter, posted in orphans, Photography, Poetry, Uganda

rough current o’er my path

couldn’t pick a way

no choice but sink or swim

life pulled me down

boulders blocked my life

throw them at the sun

sharp like a knife

writing scribbled frowns

not really smooth

a way in front I see

what lies behind

rushes to the sea

walk in a village

water flowing free

writing with a goal

children read & dream

I know poetry is symbolic and cryptic and so many unexplainables. Poetry has been a way for me to move forward (and write) when my path seemed fouled. Use your words no matter how few to set your mind at ease. There is a waterfall of sentences just up ahead.

X where the roads meet #atozchallenge #Uganda

April 28, 2017April 28, 2017 by moondustwriter, posted in a to z challenge, Photography, Poetry, Uganda

Can I paint a picture for you where four roads meet and a story is told?

A young man closes his eyes and I hear a six-year-old huff and puff as his feet dash from tree to tree.

“Please soldiers don’t look up from your noon day sleep.”

He and his family run back to their hut to get some of their belongings.

“There it is the book that my teacher gave me to read.”

A dusty road forks and a long line of refugees trudge southward.

“No one wants you” people wave their hands to ward them off.

makeshift wooden buildings are put up in the south

“Stay here. No one cares.”

Some at the end of the war don’t return the journey is too painful

Others have lived on the edge of the war zone – waiting

The dust on the road finally clears

one family then two return to a village of ashes

“I look at myself playing dangerous games as a child. I could have been shot.”

Everyone has lost loved ones.

The land welcome the Acholi home.

The young man is expecting a child soon.

He points down the road.

“There is a tree where we have prayed. We are almost there.”

I see pride rise like the sun in his face.

“This is our church. ” He points at two sprawling trees.

“God hears us rain or shine.”

We give children water and cookies under the prayer tree.

I see a piece of the fourth road as we drive away.

It isn’t clear what it will hold.

It is filled with hopes.

Acholi tribes to prosper

Orphans healthy and safe

Rain falls on fertile soil

I hope to be there to see the dust settle.

These amazing people the Acholi have known so much loss, terror, hardship and yet it is in their rightful ancestral land where refugees are being welcome to rebuild their lives. Uganda is the third largest country in the world to offer refuge to the war-torn people of our world.

Thanks to the A to Z challenge for allowing me to share about these people the Acholi and Uganda.

I Choose Life #sundaydevotion #poetry

November 27, 2016 by moondustwriter, posted in Photography, Poetry

a fork in the road

threw indecision my way

left or right

a price to pay

one path almost spoke

come here and walk

you’ll never regret

the pleasures Ive wrought

the other was narrow

with pebbles and leaves

golden light flickered

warming the trees

I reached out my gaze

took my first step

years that was now

many pilgrims Ive met

heaven’s gate is beyond

to a world free of strife

I owe it all to that path

it gave me new life

The “gate” in the Bible is mentioned like the fork in the road. There is a broad gate to destruction people are distracted by stuff, pleasure, and gain but the end result is eternal pain. There are trials, stumbling, disappointment when you walk through narrow gate but at the end is rejoicing where Jesus awaits.

“Make every effort to enter through the narrow door. For many, I tell you, will try to enter and will not be able. After the master of the house gets up and shuts the door, you will stand outside knocking and saying, ‘Lord, open the door for us.’

But he will reply, ‘I do not know where you are from.’

Luke 13:24 & 25

Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the way that leads to life, and only a few find it.

Matthew 17: 13 & 14

Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

John 14:6

Sharing this with Godinterest.

Not Ashamed #poetry #freedom #veterans

January 25, 2015January 25, 2015 by moondustwriter, posted in Our World, Poetry, poets united

posterized sail

Sails billow as they unfurl

we prepare to release our mooring

waiting expectantly for the wind

to greet our faces

as we set sail

and why should we be ashamed?

Quickly and purposely

we unchock the wheels

remove the air intake blocks

pull the flags covering the pitot

engines start to cycle

and why should I be ashamed?

Her sails grab at the wind

the props cause everything loose to ruffle

We greet the day

knowing that those we love

are setting the dandelions free

our children should not be ashamed!!!

boys

I like most of the men and women who choose to serve their country (in the armed forces) do it so that children can run free in the dandelion fields rather than be used as a weapons.

Poets United so kindly sponsors Poetry Pantry each Sunday.