Your anger is an ocean wave You cannot leave to rise, For once arisen must it brave A path to its demise: To slowly draw into its breast Each vessel in its wake, Then shatter all upon its crest Before the downward break; Or swell in silent solitude, Across the fickle seas To crash upon your shores and quench Your grove of poison trees. So slay no spirit, spare your heart, And know the ocean wide, That you may breathe the winds that quell The ever rising tide.
To every orphan child, with love. Up from my mother’s arms so cold, I looked around the room to see The many faces looking on My handsome Abba peacefully Asleep during the day. I turned to see my mother who Stood quiet with her statue face, I put my hands around her neck, And held her in my baby brace; Then in the softest tone, Inquired: “Ammi, Abba get up?” Her face retained its rocky state, I slapped her cheeks with both my hands, And made the room to resonate: “AMMI, ABBA GET UP?” And then her face went soft and warm, She slowly blinked her moistened eyes, Her lips went tight, and tears streamed; I thought an Ammi never cries; My Ammi never cries. And so I kissed her face and said, “Ammi, Abba get up” again. But that just made her weep some more, To sadly shake her head, and then To sit upon the floor. And that was when I raised my arms, Before announcing loud and clear: “Ammi, Abba get up, Ammi, Abba get up TOMORROW”. Dear Ammi wept on but smiled. Well said, my little child. Take heart from what was spoken, This true reminder token Of sweet and soothing patience, Absolutely beautiful: Tomorrow to be woken. My child, you live one day of you, So live your day – gold, green and blue; But live it right, and live it true, That when the sun does set on you, As I did, you may get up […]