Celebrating Hope
we gather believing
life is more
than just this molded
clay shell we all live in
*
Watching the sunrise
we live, believing
that by grace we too will rise
beyond this physical
life of decay
into eternal transformation
spiritual oneness
with God,
our creator,
Our Risen Lord!
*
Photo: Dwight L. Roth
Roots lying unseen
Giving strength to what is seen
The same with our Faith
Photo: Dwight L. Roth
When self-preservation
at all cost
overrides our understanding
of humanity,
Ideologies arise
blinding us to the truth
that we are all of
One Blood
that pumps
through our veins
interchangeable
with you or me
regardless of color
race or ethnicity,
Life-saving blood
revealing
that we are all one
in the midst of
our diversity,
but not exclusive
in value
or superior in
entitlement.
We are humanity
created in the image
of our creator
Spiritual channels
of light
in the darkness
We are hope and comfort…
not death and destruction.
*
My sad condolences to the people of Buffalo whose family members were attacked and killed yesterday by a raving lunatic who thought his humanity was greater in value than the lives of others who were different from him.
Photo: Dwight L. Roth
Our Cry to God
Where are you God when we need you the most
as bombs explode and buildings crumble
Where are you as little men who desire power
send other men to the slaughter in their place
And where are you as mother’s weep
for their husbands… their sons… and their children
Where were you when refugees fled their homes
for destinations unknown and unforeseen just weeks ago
Where were you as bullets fly and old men are murdered
left shot, lying in the street like human refuse
Where are you as women were raped and children cry
from a lifetime of the despicable happening overnight
Where are you God as the Nations rage
seemingly out of control
God’s Response
I Am… not the chess-master controlling the board
As pawns are discarded and Queens attempt to capture kings
The affairs of men go on as they have since the beginning
Nation against nation and Kingdom against kingdom
Some think I Am a genie in the bottle
that when correct prayers are given, rubbed the right way,
will bring the three wishes of fantasy and dreams
My kingdom is not one of the physical realms
But of the spiritual, not of this world but of the eternal
I Am the God who gives you strength from within
Power of unequal measure coming up from the depths
When faced with crisis, or the enemy, or the forces of evil
I Am the God who reveals himself through the human spirit
bringing comfort to the grieving and strength to the dying
I Am the God who removes physical blinders revealing
chariots of fire moving you forward to face whatever lies ahead
I Am the Lion roaring through you to confront evil in the world
Those who look to me will find renewed strength
And like the Phoenix rising from the ashes, you too will rise
I AM the God of peace… which will come in time
as Love is shown and Grace, Mercy, and Forgiveness
are extended to all
***
Paintings of Sunflowers: Dwight L. Roth
Sharing this on d’Verse Poets Pub open link night… Join us at: https://dversepoets.com
There you are every morning at my perch
Drinking from my fermented fountain
Addicted to the sour nectar
All of your iridescence shimmering in the sunlight
Pausing now and then to look at me
As I make my morning coffee
Movement in the shadows
Not sure what to make of me
The sunlight blinding your view
Making it difficult to see the details
Yet you come back every day
Finding nourishment and strength
In the liquid of life that sustains you
Hoping to get your fill
Before another drives you away
Claiming it to be theirs alone
Sort of like my view of God…
Moving in the shadows of my life
Providing sustaining strength and hope
Not exactly sure what I am seeing
Everyone thinking they alone have it right
Blinded by the light of Grace
Photos: Dwight L. Roth
At the base of each drying leaf
Is a bud full of life and potential
Waiting patiently for summer’s heat
Or winter’s cold to pass
Knowing Spring will bring renewal
*****
Remember…
Behind all that crushes you
Makes you feel devastated
Hopeless and distraught
Lies a bud of strength and potential
The creator’s promised hope
Waiting for you to recognize
That your spring has arrived
Once more
Photo: Dwighr L. Roth
My Aunt Betty grew up in the small town of Ware, Virginia right along Mobjack Bay, home of Ward Oyster Company. Aunt Bet, as friends called her, was a fine cook and specialized in fried oysters. People up and down the Ware River knew about Aunt Bet.
She was so popular that that she and Uncle Joe decided to open Aunt Betty’s Oyster Shack. It was a big success, with people lined up around the block to get a taste of her fried oysters, slaw, hush puppies, and sweet tea.
She could shuck those oysters faster than anyone I know. One day I asked her, if she was ever angry that God made her black. A broad smile crossed her face as she looked up at me and said, “No, I do not weep at the world; I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife!”
**********
Today at d’Verse, Lisa challenged us to write a prosery piece, that included the line: “No, I do not weep at the world, I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife!” from –Zora Neale Hurston, from “How Does it Feel to be Colored Me” in World Tomorrow (1928).
Join us at: https://dversepoets.com
I took my fictional setting from information I found on line about the Ward Oyster Company at the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay. If you are interested you can read more about it below:
Ward Oyster Co. is one of the largest cage oyster farms on the East Coast of the USA, distributing their oysters all over the continental United States. Ward Oyster Co. has about 20 to 30 million oysters placed in cages near the mouth of the Ware River (our nursery) and in the heart of the Mobjack Bay (our grow out location). It is headquartered in the towns of Ware Neck in Gloucester County, and the town of Foster in Mathews county, both of Virginia. The Ware River is one of four rivers which feed the Mobjack Bay, all of which flow directly to and from the salty lower Chesapeake Bay. Visit our online store for the best fresh oysters in the area.
This week my childhood friend and his wife lost their middle-age son to cancer. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose a child. As I share in their sorrow, I wanted to share this poem that I have posted a few times before. It expresses my understanding of what it is like to pass on from this life to the next.
When my spirit rises
Unencumbered and free
No weight or worry accompanies me
Interesting that I value things
When in the end the spirit flies
Leaving them all behind
How much I worry and fret
But this too shall pass when I am gone
My spirit rises out of this shell
A virtual butterfly reborn
From caterpillar to chrysalis
Reborn in the image of God
Spirit Creator Redeemer Savior
Knowing there is no place for the earthly
In the spirit world beyond
I can’t take it with me
But then again… Why would I want to
When my spirit rises
Photo: Dwight L. Roth
The old man lay on his death bed waiting for his last breath. Only his wife of sixty years remained with him in this lonely hour.
“We have had a great life together,” Catherine whispered to him as his eyes opened and then closed.
The old man half smiled and tried to nod his head.
“I will miss you my dear, but your time has come to cross over.”
Catherine’s mind wandered as she contemplated his passing…
“Crucial to finding the way is this: there is no beginning or end.”
“As your soul becomes one with the universe, the thought of beginnings and endings will be no more. The spirit of creation will carry you into the joy of your existence; beyond all that you could ask or think!”
His breathing became more shallow. She held his hand, as John drew his last breath.
Photo: Dwight L. Roth
Today at d’Verse, we are doing Prosery (flash fiction of exactly 144 words). Merril has chosen a line from Jo Harjo’s “A Map to the Next World.” The line must be included in our story.
The line is: “Crucial to finding the way is this: there is no beginning or end.”
Join us at: https://dversepoets.com then click on the Mr. Linkey box to read more…
Broken
What do you see when something is broken
An object to discard
Or an object restored
Half-full or half-empty
Perspective is everything
Affects all of life
We all become broken
At some time in our life
Thinking we are beyond repair
But God sees us otherwise
And restores us with his grace
His perspective
His Love
Are always there
We always have our place
Way beyond
What we could ask or think
Photos & Painting: Dwight L. Roth
Roth Poetry 