ON THE BRINK AND BACK

I was standing on the brink,
All around the ground began to sink.
I just could not go any longer;
My arms were weak, my legs no stronger,
I reached out and said really loud,
If anyone cares, help me now.

I had no hope- my cares were many;
No one to love me-had only my enemy,
Who followed close behind and threatened
My very being,
I saw only bad visions-could not believe
What I was seeing.

From somewhere in the air,
I heard a faint, small voice-I care.
Looking up and looking down;
Not a soul-no one could be seen,
Yet deep inside where fear had been,
There was a peace that to me had been no kin.

I fell face down and asked who spoke to me,
Again the voice was small but sounded very strong,
Fear not, child, I’ll keep you from all wrong.
I Am, Jesus and I love you.
I’ll take away despair and give you peace and mercy,
To name just a few.

Stay with me and do not stray,
You’ll forever know all the right ways.
Never again feel all alone,
Because I’ll be with you---Always

Sandra Walker

6-25-2006

MY MOTHER

This is a poem I wrote for a dear friend of mine whose Mother has passed away. Of course, what's in this poem can/could be said about everyone's Mother. It could surely have been written for mine. Anyway, I hope it'll be enjoyed by many.

My mother was small and skin like a pearl,
Through hours of pain gave birth to a girl,
She held me close and cooed my name,
Her life would never be quite the same.
In early years she guided my life;
Days full of joy, very little strife,
Raised up with kind words and a Bible,
When things got dull, she sang a revival.
Teenage years brought days of tears;
Broken hearts and boyfriend fears,
Mother settled them with only a smile,
Then she’d say, “It’ll be ok in a while”
As I grew in age I knew her well,
I knew her advice was a clear as a bell,
I went my way but took all her advice,
I’ve applied to my own more than once or twice.
My mother is gone to her heavenly home;
My heart breaks but I know I’m not alone,
One day when Jesus decides to come back,
I’ll join the ones on that heavenly track.
When I pass through the gates of pure gold;
Again I’ll see friends from days of old,
In a great mansion sitting in her chair,
Softly singing and brushing her hair.
I’ll know at once that she is my mother;
I’ll know because it surely could be no other,
I’ll run and hug her and kiss on her hair,
I’ll know in my heart she’d been waiting for me there.

{written3/6/06}