PRECIOUS POETRY: March 2019

Ten Years

In the bright morning hour

As you lay there in your dreams

I wonder as I ponder

What ten years means

We started this journey

A little late in life

Both in our forties

When I became your wife

As I look back in time

Ten years for me is huge

I haven’t had ten years anywhere

Like I’ve had ten years with you

I moved around so much in life

Home never lasted this long

You have given me a place

For ten years here to belong

The journey has be rough at times

But what marriage rides with ease

It gives me strength to see the growth

In our ring pics and wedding trees

Maybe ten years for some

Is just another date gone bye

But it really means something to me

A milestone I can’t deny

So I will remember today

And this poem will mark the place

And with my whole heart, I thank you and God

For ten years of Love and Grace

© Ruby Neumann

Poet's Note:

Written March 28, 2019.. Our tenth wedding anniversary.

Sunday's Shelf

It’s Sunday morning

And we sit on the shelf

Not wanting to sit

Anywhere else

Belonging not

But we long to be

Close to our loved ones

And wanting to see

What they have to show

What they’ve come to share

We are here only because

Our loved ones are there

Out of our element

But in love with them

So here we sit

And we wait again

The awkwardness rises

With incoming tears

We want out, but we stay

With our hidden fears

To find a home here

We'd need more help

But until then

We will sit on the shelf

© Ruby Neumann

Poet's Note:

Written March 24, 2019

"The Shelf" is a term I first heard from Mark Lowry. I don't think I can offer more of an explanation this time. The poem says it all. (see attached link)

Hiding Hope

Two years

Two months

Two days have passed

And I find myself back here

I told myself I would not return

And yet again I ventured near

There is still a peace that dwells on this road

There is still a hope that hides

There is a reminder of God’s grace

And His love that still abides

I want so much to park here

On the side of this muddy drive

Yet I know I must journey on

For it’s the journey that keeps me alive

Today I was looking for purpose

Another reason for another day

Will I relinquish it here in the setting sun

Or will it come when I drive away

Oh, most painful memory

Does this have to be the end

Or will the hope that is still hiding

Be soon around the bend

I shall take a leap of faith

Start the motor and engage the gear

Oh Hiding Hope, I’m coming

Poet's Note:

In the movie "The Shack" Mac asks Papa why he was brought back to the place of his worst pain to meet God. She said... "Cause this is where you got stuck."

Maybe that is why I am drawn back to "that most painful road". Today just happened to be two years, two months and two days. Ironic how something like a seemingly insignificant statistic could pop in my head the moment I am back in that place. As painful as that place is, it still inspires me.

This poem sounds dark, so I made the picture dark, but it was actually a beautiful day today. The poem may sound like it is written from a place of hopelessness, but that is not really true. I may be struggling to find my purpose, but Hope... Hope is not lost, it is only hiding. Maybe just beyond my vision, but not beyond my grasp.

This is the third in the series of poems inspired by that place.

Where the Pussy Willows Hide

Without the Willows

Who knows what else is hiding that awaits to be revealed.

God By My Final Bed

How do I heal
Now that he is gone
How do I keep walking

How do I journey on

What is the next step

On this rocky road

And how long do I carry

This burdensome load

He was supposed to walk with me

Until I was dead

It was he I wanted sitting

Beside my final bed

So many miss him

And so many are grieving

Do they know at all what I miss

What I lost at his leaving

God forgive my selfish

And childish soul

Remind me it’s You

Who won’t leave me alone

Give me a reason

A hope to go on

And be at my final bed

Poet's Note:

I wrote this poem Sunday morning March 3, 2019.

What happens when all our hopes are put on one person to be there for us at the end of our days? What happens when those hopes are dashed? Will hope be found if we can picture God in that place instead?