Rabbi, Rabbi...O! Rabbi
I’ve been too busy with my own situation,
Lost in my own kind of ways,
Want to say a lot of things from my aloof past,
Let’s walk, let’s talk and let’s talk the walk.
Came here with my broken pot, It fell spectators surround
I’ve gathered and glued my pieces,
Cracks still seen with glue stain around,
Don’t let my face, anew hit any ground,
I’ve lost the worth to hold a crop.
Inscribe my pot with all thy thought
As yet orphaned but not an orphan
Lost my way to find thy way
Lest your fear, for any fear
Remove my rear view mirror
Hold my hand, a feeble hand
Through all the deserted strand
Give me troubles and a push to carry on
Forgive those wasted altar calls
In negative towards my negativity
I’ve Clenched in heart, what the cross couldn’t hold
And the tomb wouldn’t contain
This is my last verse. Amen.
*i told myself never to write again
Michel .H. Ashton
5 comments:
'Forgive those wasted altar calls'
made me think for quite sometime abt the many altar calls I responded to but forgot 'em now.
The sixth line from the bottom seems a bit ridiculous............why would i want some trouble and then a helping hand to ease me out.......i would rather hope and pray for me to kept out of trouble's way.........anyway a great passage.........carry on the good work
i would rather hope and pray for me to be kept out of trouble's way (I had always wanted the line to be this way)...sorry for the error,.....
trouble has always kept me in track with God and so I wd accept the troubles if God gives me a push and the momentum to go on.If God allows problems,He cares for me extra bit that I pass thru' it manageably well.
poems wre beautiful
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