Thursday Riddle (October 23, 2014)

Upon which a runner may rest To honor so many a guest.

Mother And Child

The silence of the man she loved Said all she had to know: No words could take her heart to where It was destined to go. With a faith that dwarfed the mountains Rising all around her, she Rose up from where her baby lay With the dust for company; And she ran to the nearest hill she saw, Climbed up and looked around For the faintest hint of a caravan Or the source of the slightest sound, Then down she ran and stopped a while Where the baby kicked and cried, To rush up another hill that stood Way off on the other side. She peered again through the scorching heat For the smallest sign of life, Then on she ran with the firm and strong Resolve of a prophet’s wife. And thus she searched, and so she ran Till her heels wept streams of blood, As the infant cried and kicked the sand When his heels discovered mud, And the waters gushed and sprung up wild While the mother rushed to her crying child; How they washed themselves and drank their fill And she nursed the babe till their hearts went still. In the burning desolation Of that strange and barren land, Rose a faith that raised a nation By this blessed mother and Her child.

Thursday Riddle (October 16, 2014)

Stands in silence, shoots and leaves.

Thursday Riddle (October 9, 2014)

If you will take me, then I shall take you, Together we go wherever I go. And I go without ever moving, you know.

Thursday Riddle (October 2, 2014)

These two brothers spindly, asleep they remain To wake for employment that comes with the rain; Together they sleep and together they rise, And all that they sweep expeditiously dries.