Bow and arrows are at each soldier's waist. Parents and wives follow to bid farewell. Xianyang Bridge disappears as dust clouds swell.
Those many years have faded fast with oh, so little sound. I sit a-spell and reminisce in silence that remains, from walnut pulpit up in front to stained glass window panes.
It seems to be inviting me.
My eyes drop down in front of me upon a hymnal book. I hesitate and ponder some before I take a look. Those tunes and words come quickly as my sorry psyche swims to words of His "Amazing Grace" and more familiar hymns.
Familiar are both floor and walls.
Familiar are the lights. Reflecting back to faces though, my deepened grief ignites.
So many friends I cannot see. No, time and change are not my friends! How did I go astray? How many times can God convict me of my wicked ways? How many times did I pretend and did not give God praise? I crave and plead that time turns back.
It rips my insides out! It makes me blame somebody else. It makes me want to shout. As I stare squarely at myself - and you know how it goes - the lightning strikes and thunder roars as levee overflows.
This poem was a finalist in the January poetry contest This Christian poem may be used within Christian ministries for any non-profit purpose without requesting permission. Please remember to mention the author of this poem when using.I've been writing poetry since I was a child, even having one poem published in my hometown newspaper!
I've not done a lot of writing, like I /5(). My beloved hometown, village of my birth in Tamil Eelam standing as a strong stalwart sentinel, at the portals of the peninsula Jaffna, which crowns. This Poem Appears In Read Issue. More About this Poem. Previous in Issue On Returning to My Hometown in By Idra Novey About this Poet Idra Novey is the author of Exit, Civilian, a National Poetry Series Selection and a.
THE BUILDER: I saw them tearing a building down A team of men in my hometown. With a heave and a ho and a yes yes yell, they swung a beam and a sidewall fell. —Issa Rae Everybody Black is my hometown team.
Everybody Black dropped the hottest album of the year, easy.
Everybody Black is in this show, so I’m watching. Everybody Black is in this movie, so I’m watching. The poem is something that came to me about 6 months after my sister's sudden death. I found her dead on her bedroom floor when I went in to change her bandages from a recent surgery.
A blood clot from that surgery is what killed her. The poem tells my journey through grief - from the initial disbelief to the final acceptance. There is not a day that goes by that I don't miss my best friend.