The God Perspective

“You know,” he mused, “Some folks don’t believe there is a God. They get all tangled up with religion and theological arguments about who is right and who is wrong, and miss the bigger picture.”

Grandpa always did have a unique perspective on life. He was wise beyond his years, but only shared his wisdom if asked.

“Aren’t your afraid of catching Covid and dying,” I asked?

“You know son, there are a lot worse things in living than in dying. Death is knocking on all of our doors!”

“I believe there is a God who is the source of all life, and that my life will continue on long after this old pain-ridden body is gone.”

I thought about what he said, as he continued, ‘We look at him through the wrong end of the long telescope of Time’.

“God’s Love is eternal!”

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Painting By Dwight L. Roth

Today at d’Verse, Kim is having us do Prosery. This is when we write a prose piece of flash fiction (144 words) that includes a random line form a poem she chooses for us. She gave us this line from the D. H. Lawerence poem, Hummingbird:We look at him through the wrong end of the long telescope of Time’. I decided to write my piece as a conversation.

Join us at: https://dversepoets.com

Beauty in the Aging

Today a lone monarch visited my flowers, sucking out the last drops of nectar. I was excited to see it, since I didn’t see any all summer. The Yellow and Black Swallowtails were here, but no Monarchs. I got my camera and snapped away, as it enjoyed what is left of my Zinnias.

Summer has finally come to an end, and a lot of my flowers grew fungus and mildew on their leaves. The leaves deteriorated and dried up starting at the bottom and going up. But, with a couple of late summer rains, and a little watering from my rain barrels, my Zinnias continue to grow. I also have been cutting off seed heads as the flowers petals fall off. This stimulates them to keep putting out new buds. Although the bottom half of the stem looks dead the top continues to bloom. Some have now reached a height of almost eight feet! I see beauty in the flowers and also in the drying stems and leaves. It reminded me of the stages of life we all go through and that beauty can always be found even as we age and come to the end of life.

In the Fall of Life

beauty is found in aging

Blooms shine above pain

Photos taken today – Dwight L. Roth

Each Day a Gift

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These days, every day is a gift….

but then again, it has always been that way!

The significance of being becomes more significant

the closer one gets to the horizon

Freedom becomes being able to get up every morning

have breakfast and enjoy the day

Rumblings of disease and discord are stealing our rainbows

along with the imaginary pot of gold!

The simple life we longed for is now a never ending experience

leaving us ready // itching to get out an about once more

Death has always been on the horizon for each of us

It is just a part of our life experience at any age

But, until that time let us enjoy the gift of life

For tomorrow things will change…

 

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Inspiration bits for this poem came from a poem by Paul V. Cannon. You can read his poem here:

https://pvcann.com/2020/07/24/just-glad-a-poem-by-paul-vincent-cannon/comment-page-1/#comment-38127

And…

A poem by Christine Bolton… you can read her poem here:

https://poetryforhealing.com/2020/07/23/no-contest/#comment-15789

When It’s My Time

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When it’s my time // let it be a celebration
Not down and sorrowful;
A reminder of all the good things life offered
And the things I chose to accept.
Let it be filled with music and guitars
Singing the old songs that stirred my soul.
Make it a time to remember the good times;
Stories shared that warm the heart.
Celebrate my passing with joy and happiness;
Friends and family coming together as one
Finding strength, joy, and hope.
Let tears mingle with laughter and song;
Knowing that I had a great life
Filled with great family and friends.
As my spirit rises to join the Spirit of God, my creator,
Know that life goes on // both here and there.

*****

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

 

Waiting for Heaven (a Ghazal)

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Obsolete // life’s most difficult burden
Life lingers on as you wait for heaven

Your rising soul resists the dimming light
Strong and powerful //waiting for heaven

Time and physical tolls // body wears out
Still you struggle // not ready for heaven

Mind and body fail you // yet life goes on
Disappear // four walls // waiting for heaven

The end is near // it is perfectly clear
Breathing is difficult // nearing heaven

Spirit rises // all earthly struggles cease
Safe in the arms of God // you reach heaven

A few years ago we waited while my mother-in-law was coming to the end of her life. I wrote a poem at that time called Waiting to Die, which was a combination of what I felt about life and what was actually taking place.  Today, I have condensed those thoughts into a Ghazal for d’Verse Poets Pub.  The Ghazal is from an ancient Arabic poety that writes in couplets of the same length. They end in each couplet with the same or similar words. It us usually about love, life, or pain. This is my second attempt at a Ghazal.

You can join us at:  https://dversepoets.com

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

After Time (a Quadrille)

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After Time

Everyone keeps time

Loses time

Takes time

Wants more time…

But,

No one wants to talk

About what happens

after time.

Does time stop…

Or,

Eternity begin?

…Our last breath//

Bouncing our soul out gently

Does the screen go black…

Or just change format?

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At d’Verse~Poetry Pub, today, De Jackson challenged us to write a quadrille (of exactly 44 words) using the word bounce. You might think of bounce as a game thing with children bouncing, or a puppy bouncing up and  down, or perhaps the bounce of the music beat.  This is a little different take on the word bounce, but you won’t forget it very quickly.

Enjoy…. come visit us at the website:https://dversepoets.com/

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Crusty Bark

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Today I am trying something that Amaya, from Gospel Isosceles, came up with after reading my post on Five Loaves and Two Fish. She thought this would be a great new form of poetry, to write with five syllables in the first line followed by two syllables in the second. I love the idea, Here is my first attempt at 5-2 poetry. Give it a try. You will like it!!

Crusty Bark  (5-2 poetry)

Crusty bark split open

Painful

Yet necessary

For growth

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Crusty old fellow

Hates change

Set in his old ways

Boxed in

Lying in that box

Ashes

Waiting for new growth

 

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Photos: Dwight L. Roth

Check out Amaya’s beautiful post Serendipity that she wrote to illustrate;

https://gospelisosceles.wordpress.com/2017/12/19/serendipity/

 

Scars

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Scars

“Forgive and forget…”

An unforgivable cliché

Scars climb into the coffin with us

Lying there, embedded into our souls

A lasting part of who we have become…

Some visible and obvious…

Others not so much so

Forgiveness does not erase scars

It only allows us to heal and go on

Giving us the strength to live above the pain.

Scars that do not heal bring death

Soul stirring pain so deep and so sharp

That we can bear it no more.

Go lightly on that soul

Who chooses his fate,

Unlike the rest of us who wait

For fate to come knocking .

Fear of making a choice keeps many

Dead while living …

Enduring, waiting, wondering

Bearing the scars alone

Wishing for the end

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Photo: Dwight l. Roth

The Image of God

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In our world life is valued above everything else. We protect our children in their formative years only to let them go on their own as they get older. We grow old and wonder what we have accomplished in life. Then we look at our children and grandchildren and we know. They are our legacy. Our love and care is reflected in them just as the creators love and care is reflected in us. And our life goes on.

My Life Goes On
If I should find this my last day
Looking back on my work and play
Life is the place where joy and sorrow meet
A roller coaster ride of ups and downs
Struggles pain and joys abound
Making me stronger standing my ground
Becoming the man who bears my name
The image of my creator reflected in my face
Not perfect but full of love and amazing grace
A shadow of the divine embracing a much better place
Life goes on be it here or there
In our children in their children
His face is everywhere
Reflections of love immeasurable power
Strength for today and hope for each hour
Passing on down through the thread of life
So fragile so dear so full of strife
If this were to be my last day
With sorrow’s leaving I would surely say
I’m not gone I’m here to stay

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Photo: Dwight & Ruth

When the End is Near

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How does one prepare for his own demise. I used to think as I drove down the road, “If this or that happens, I will react in this way to avert a bad outcome. Ironically things happen in split seconds and not in rational minutes. This became a reality when canoeing in Michigan with my wife. We decided to take a short cut through a set of rapids. I made the mistake of grabbing a fallen tree limb in the river as we went by. It two seconds we were upside down in the water. Life is the same way. Split seconds often decide our future in this life. To think we can plan out our life to the end is rather foolish. Things happen when  we least expect them. It is more important to live each day to the full, enjoy our families, and be grateful for the gifts others bring into our life.  Planning is important, but a wise counselor once said, “Life happens when we have other plans.”  Live every day as though it will be your last.

When the End is Near

How does one prepare to die

When all my life I have always denied

Until the time of confrontation

Be it diagnosis or major complication

I used to think I could plan it out

And when my time came to go out with a shout

How foolish to think I could have any say

When my time has come and it’s my day

The older I get the faster the time flies

Like a barreling freight train that comes flying by

To plan for my end must be done in the living

Of each day’s moment each opportunity for giving

When that time comes and it will for us all

I can say while I lived I gave it my all

And if I keep going on as long as I can

When it’s my turn to go I won’t need to plan

But when I am gone if I am remembered

Hopefully it will be that I never surrendered

As I press toward the mark of that high calling

I trust that my life will have been worth the living

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Stamp mixed media art: Dwight L. Roth