Tag: Poetry

Cross, Poetry, Religious

Like The Ocean to The Bay

Wynema

Not feeling all that poetic
But having much to say
From a passion rising briskly
Like the ocean to the bay

Is the love of Christ my Savior
As my eyes are opened wide
To His mercy and His kindness
And the life He does provide

So complete is His provision
So entire is His being
That it feels the nooks and crannies
And awakens me to seeing

Even with my body weakened
And on earth I live today
His life is like the ocean
And my life is like the bay

It will never be depleted
It will never cease to be
It’s a life that lives forever
It’s His life that lives in me.

So I rest in this knowing
I am righteous, I am pure
I am ever in His pleasure
And poetically secure.

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Poetry

“Let It Be” by Benjamin Clark

Wynema

What does it mean to experience?
Is experience a glimmering light, fluttering off in the rear view?
Or is experience a sparkle of dust, ever waiting to be discovered?

What does it mean to be?
Is being simply a matter of taking place?
A matter of nothing more than living and evolving on a particle of rock, hanging in the sky?

Oh no, being is a much greater phenomena than this.

Being is an experience.
And no, not an experience as a matter of the past. To accept this as being is to let your fate escape you.
Second by second, inch by inch, until it fades to nothingness as if it had never happened.

And no, not an experience as a matter of what is to come.
The future is but a dream. It is but a mere freckle of opportunity, changing with every passing glance.
With every blink, what is to come, is no longer what is to come

But rather to experience that of the present. Being is an embrace. It is to become what is here
and what is now. It is to look every moment in the eyes and to live it without thought of
what has happened and what is yet to come.

To be is to accept life as it is and not fret about problems that come to and fro amidst an ever
changing world. To be is to experience. To live ever so fervently within the moment.
So I ask of you one thing, let it be.

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Poetry

Authenticity

Wynema

What is real,

Would you take

What you know,

If it was fake?

Would you take it

In a sack

And bring it home

Or take it back?

Can you stand

In those shoes,

If they are different

Than what you choose.

Open wide your arms

to real,

No matter what

it is you feel!

It is your gift

To be authentic,

So be proudly

Photogenic!

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“If I Was 21 Again”

Wynema
Flower fun
Flower fun (Photo credit: @Doug888888

“It I Was 21 Again”

If I was 21 again I’d tell myself to laugh/

I’d stop and smell the roses and even tip a glass/

If I was 21 again I’d give myself time to grow/

I’d love without the guilt and those I love would surely know/

If I was 21 again and all I had was time/

I’d go to Napa Valley and learn to love fine wine/

But I’m not 21 again the truth is I’m 42/

And I wouldn’t change a thing because I’ve spent my life with you!

Wynema Clark 4/10/2013

 

Poetry

“Just To Think”

Wynema

Do you ever do anything, just to think?

Shut out the world and let your mind and spirit sync.

Do you ever take a walk in the cool of the day,

And stop to smell the aroma of a wild bouquet?

If you treasured the moment that’s here and now,

If you opened your mind to what your heart would allow,

You would see beauty in ordinary things,

Realize a peace that only God brings.

The anxiety the rush and the stresses of existence,

Would be but a memory way off in the distance.

Wynema Clark 4/6/2013

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“The Calm After the Storm”

Wynema
Spring Rain
Spring Rain (Photo credit: Esteban Cavrico)

Thunder clashes as lightning shoots across the sky,

Rain pounds on the panes and I hear my daughter cry.

Darkness one moment daylight in a flash,

Fear turns to peace before another clash.

It’s loud for a moment as silence ushers in,

A deep sleep and a rest that doesn’t wake me again.

Till morning when the first rays of light peek through,

The shades on my window off the drops of morning dew.

And I open the window to something so fresh and so clear,

A most beautiful morning erased of all fear.

A freshness that only spring storm clouds could bring,

Through the wreckage the very first glimpses of spring.

Wynema Clark 3/12/2013

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