A TRAIL OF TEARS

Okay, so another poem... this one inspired more by Dad than anything else... yes, he does that to me from time to time.  I'm not sure this was what he was thinking when he said I should write about where the war (WWII, FYI) began and where it ended, but, then again, most of my poems don't necessarily end up the way I think they should when I start them, either.  It's (mostly) about The Arizona and The Missouri (Big Mo')... both ships representing the start and the end of the war, respectively.  But, really, you can't use the names flowingly in a poem that doesn't sound kindergartenish (IMO). SO! To also help you understand the title, the "trail" is in reference to the fact you see the oil from the Arizona as it moves along the current towards the Missouri; a trail of the Arizona's tears, if you will (see previous entry "Tears From The Deep").  Enjoy (I hope)!

A TRAIL OF TEARS

 A trail of tears, from start to end,
Lead where it ended from where it began.
From one comes weeping, from the other a sigh,
For those who from the grave now cry.
    tears and wrath and fire and loss,

    marked by water instead of a cross.

A trail of tears that endeth not,

A reminder of what sins' greed had sought.
One Power would their realm extend,
One Power would the weak defend.
    anger and fear and war abide
    in hearts where naught be greed reside.

A trail of tears for the many that died
In a war that came like a raging tide.
Its' sorrow formed a spear of wrath
And set the heart on justice' path.
    honor and valor and strength and tears
    follow the path that Freedom steers.

A trail of tears did pave the way
To loss and vic't'ry that final day.
Men stood strong and hearts beat proud
For naught but yielding would be allowed.
    triumph, defiance and painful loss
    of all the lives that paid the cost.

A trail of tears, cans't follow the lead
In honor for those whose death we heed?
The cost of war, the price that bought
An end not one our Foe had sought.
    blood and fire and death and tears
    bought peace and Freedom throughout the years.

A trail of tears, from start to end,
Lead where it ended from where it began.
Remember the end, as too the start,
Marked by the tears from a sunken heart.

TEARS FROM THE DEEP

I went to Hawai'i with my family the first week of August and got to visit the Arizona Memorial as well as visit with 3 of our Pearl Harbour Survivors.  After seeing the Memorial (and in spite of the rudeness of certain other visitors!) another poem began rolling around in my head. See, there's still oil seeping up, one drop at a time, from the hull of the Arizona. My sister mentioned it and I told her it was the Arizona weeping for those lost on December 7th.  That's when the poem got triggered and, a few days later, was written. That one, small drop of oil that continually weeps from the Arizona where she rests are her tears from the Deep.

TEARS FROM THE DEEP

Tears are still wept, tho' the heart's made of steel,

For men nigh forgot tho' a Nation should feel.

They died in a war, tho' no battle fought they,

On what became known as an Infamous Day.

Tears from the Deep, tho' the heartbeat is cold,

For valorous men who will never grow old.
Entombed in the dark, by water enshrined,

Stood ready 'gainst all, by Freedom defined.

     Tho' many have come, so few shed a tear.

     They call to us, now, do the whisper you hear?
     They are the reason this Nation stood fast!
     The weeping, so soft, do you hear it at last?

Tears are still wept to help us recall,
Tho' few still remember they gave us their all;
From way down below, to the Oceans' safe keep,
Seeping up for reminders are Tears from the Deep.

Fanning The Flames

Our Annual Ladies Retreat is coming up in January and we're really looking forward to this time of coming apart from the world and having fellowship with the sistren (as Bro. McCracken would say ~heee~).  Beneth Jones will be our guest speaker again (we refuse to ask anyone else!) and we're not only looking forward to hearing her speak, we're looking forward to finding out what the Lord has laid on her heart regarding our theme for this year; Fanning The Flames.  She has always brought an amazing series of lessons and so I have a feeling this year will be both a mental and spiritual challenge to our Ladies (as always).  Anyway, thinking on our theme, and fire and flames and their mention in the Bible, I came up with a few thoughts of my own.

Fire, like most things, has two sides.  Fire creates warmth, a feeling of safety and it brings light.

Fire also rages, runs wild and destroys.

God used fire in the Old Testament in judgement, such as in Numbers 11, but it was also used as a cleansing fire, such as in Isaiah 6 and a purifying fire as in Zechariah 13.  God's fire is a controlled fire, even when it was used in judgement.  He didn't fling it about randomly, destroying everything in His path; only those who deserved this judgement died (refer once again to Numbers 11).

Man's fires are not controlled when we try to be the ones in charge.  When King Nebuchadnezzar threw the three Hebrews into the fiery furnace, he commanded that it be heated seven times hotter than it had ever been.  It was a fire that was out of control and the heat alone killed Nebuchadnezzar's men when they threw the Hebrews into the flames.  But God can control even a man-made fire and His children didn't even break a sweat in those flames.

Arsonists start fires due to a little understood inner compulsion, although some start fires for pay, such as for insurance fraud. Mostly, compulsive arsonists simply love fire, love to see the beauty of the dancing flames as they consume whatever fuel is available.  And some arson fires are due to a much darker reason.  Whatever the reason behind it, all arson fires will eventually flare out of control, destroying more than ever imagined, unless those brave men and women we know as fire fighters are able to bring it under control and kill it. 

However, fire that is controlled can be used to create beauty.  Rings, necklaces, artwork, automobiles, planes, ships.  Properly controlled, fire is of great use.  God can control the flame of our spiritual fire, if we let Him.  Under our control, the flames can either flare out of control, creating a false sense of self-righteousness, or they can dim and burn down to bare embers of laziness and complacency. 

When God controls the fire, He can fan the flame to the right temperature to refine our lives to a thing of beauty, like a Master Jeweler refining silver.

A silversmith was once asked how he knew when the silver was heated to the right temperature to be able to create something. His smiling reply was "when I can see my image in it."

Who fans our spiritual flames?

Who heats us as silver to be refined and molded?

Who's image do we want to reflect?

Do we want our fire to be used to create?  Or destroy?

Where Are The Tears?

That title has been rolling around in my head for the last several days and, tonight, it came to fruition.  Sometimes, it takes a few tries to get the wording right. Sometimes it just flows from the pen. This was a little of both.  I know Veteran's Day was November 11th, but here's a (belated) reminder that we owe them our thanks, our gratitude and even our tears....

Where Are The Tears?

Where are the tears for the fallen in war?
For those who have journeyed thru Death's darkened door?

Where the reminders of valor? Unsung.
For those who departed with life left undone?

Where do you stand for the red, white and blue?
The banner defended by others who knew;

     Knew they could die for taking a stand,
     Knew they'd be hated, protecting this land,
     Knew that their choice could be met with disgust
     But knew, to save others, the choice was a must.

Where are the tears? Where is the pride?
Where is the faith to stand at their side?

Where is the gratitude, down thru the years,
For lives that were sacrificed. Where are the tears?