The Journey

1 Comments

  • LovingJesus
  • Well, here goes nothing. Really. I'm not doing anything.

The Journey

Ever since I was a boy my heart was out at sea.
I lived too far for feet to walk or horses carry me.
Leastwise that was what I thought afore I made the journey.
That's a story turns the ears just as a knighted tourney.
I was roughly seventeen when I set out from home,
I was so determined now to see the ocean's foam.
At first I found the trip a joy; a leisure or a stroll,
But then I started recognizing every nook and knoll.
Circles I was walking in!  And much to my dismay,
Just when I had got used to night I would be struck with day.
And when I had got used to day the sun began to set,
But I put my trust in the Lord and he said never fret.
So I pressed on in my march and remedied my roundness,
But every night when I got sleep it would be mostly soundless.
Every stimulus did force my body to awaken,
By extention every day my body was more shaken.
Fin'ly I escaped my lands and ventured ever further,
But 'round, it seemed, now every bend there was a deathly lurker.
Now the stones did speak to me and carry conversations,
And the trees when in the wind did seem to give orations.
Ghosts now floated through the paths and told me which to walk on,
And others told me useful tricks like which lands I could stalk on.
From those lands I exited into the burning desrt,
And my provisions now ran low and I became a guesser.
I guessed at really useless things like thickness of the air,
The ghosts and rocks; they laughed at me and told me not to stare.
Since my food had run so low I had no more to eat,
The faith that moves the mountains could no longer move my feet.
The earth she did now spite me with her climate oh so dry,
Her sister held the rain back; that cru-el hearted sky.
I lost all hope to see the sea for hope was running thin,
For even if I got there I could not get back again.
When I cried unto my God, and asked now why He took me,
The rain it came and with it fell the hope that had forsook me.
I had strength to carry on and carry on I did,
And finally I let my feet find what my eyes had hid.
And ocean frothing white with foam and waves that crashed and crumbled,
 And only half alive as yet, toward the sea I stumbled.
When I finally arrived, my heart was filled with joy,
For I had lived the biggest dream I'd had as a small boy.
But now I'm done; inside Life's show, my act it is not long.
But yours can be whate'er you please when your spirit's strong.
Faith can move the mountains, but God can move the soul,
Your journey doesn't have to end until you are full-whole.

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WordSlinger commented on The Journey

10-26-2010

So true, I love this, the narrative works, and there are many great lines in this, ok iam reading another, brother..:) much to appreciate, ty WS

LovingJesus

10/26/2010

Thanks so much, I appreciate you taking the time to give me this valuable input.

LovingJesus

12/24/2010

I'm sorry, I worded that last one terribly... but thanks a bunch for reading.

Poetry is finer and more philosophical than history; for poetry expresses the universal, and history only the particular.

Aristotle (384 BC-322 BC) Greek philosopher.

LovingJesus’s Poems (22)

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