No More
by Kathleen HighamAmidst murky thoughts this morn
There lurked a weakness to scorn
When touched insidiously, engaged
Pain intruded not to be assuaged.
The storm of life batters brutally
Beleaguering rain falls steadily
Outside the winds swirl about
Inside a soul so longs to shout.
How much more is the query?
That begins a day cold and dreary
It is surely a matter of the heart
Not knowing when or how to start.
How much more, a consequence?
Or hidden deep, a lack of sense?
Spiritual perfection can be honed
How much more, instead bemoaned.
Maybe some are meant to cower
While others flourish as a flower
Imagine the loveliest flower of all?
Opens her petals only at nightfall.
Then smell the sweetest scent ever
In the dark and cold, how clever!
Dark, cold and mysterious is this?
Yet the flower blossoms to His kiss.
How much more must one ask?
Why not simply open to the task?
Do not wonder, but wait, wait
Not to worry or anguish your fate.
The storms of life will always come
Much more ponderous to some
But one day your heart will soar
Never to ask; How much more?
Oh, smell the flower of the night
That lives without the warmth of light
Heaven, it must be just as this
In your dreams, feel His kiss.
You shall not grieve another day
Hear the Son of God sweetly say
Stand in awe at heaven's door
As Jesus speaks these words:
No More…
Revelation 21:4
"And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away."
