FROM THE LAST PLANET

Mar - 09 2018 | By

The Lord has restored and reactivated a long dormant gift of writing poetry. His Spirit has led me to post them here as “what He is doing”.  These are memories and snapshots of real people who I have met and touched/been touched by in my years of serving the poor in the San Fernando Valley.  Pray for those who struggle with faith.  Your prayers will bear fruit in His perfect time.  Be encouraged!

 

From the Last Planet

 

Dreaming now of desert ice

Beneath the dark, bequeathed cold

No sun shines here

Just age and beer

Fearful of the downs that come up suddenly.

 

I’d made a life that used and spent

Each waking hour afraid to lose the fragile tent

Not built with tools but snapped up hard

At each oasis dried and cracked.

 

To live is now to mow the yard

and see and feel the wavy lines

of heat like weeds that just grow back

the pushing, pulling blades attack

I ever wish I’d learned the knack of using time.

 

Now I lash the lack of love

and luck to every mast that breaks

and cracks from wind the ice drives down

I shudder here beneath the crown

Of thorns that living has become.

 

My dreams are fleeting as is each hour

But I have heard of Love Divine

That suffered here for souls like mine

I will pray to live.  I will pray to live for Him!

 

John Henry Raskin   March 7, 2018

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