FROM THE LAST PLANET
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