Perfect Compassion

Something about walking under

God's canopy, sunshine soaking

up dull aches, and misunderstandings

that heralds an awareness...

In bitter hours I have questioned His design

and who dares question the Almighty

'tis by faith we exist...yet,

if He can lift the sun into Heaven

flip a switch so it shines

pass time flicking stars off dark nights

and smile as he whittles the moon in half..

then why did He need my Father,

or fail to heal my dying Mother?

Why do children need to suffer, and how much pain

is required of me, to learn of love, and sacrifice?

Why do the devoted lose each other

to stubbornness and pride,

illness, war, or murder, even when they tried?

Why, God?

His answers whisper on the wind

I hear them in my soul

as he wipes away

long tears of despair

Practice makes perfect

perfect compassion

as time turns around,

For if you never feel the agony of losing,

how will you console the lost?

If you never know sadness, or anger

how will you appreciate a smile?

If you never feel rejection,

you'll not realize

the importance of acceptance

and if you're never punished,

you will not learn the difference

between approval and regret

or the humility of a forgiving heart

I do not pull your strings

freedom is your choice

and regarding your

Father and Mother

I understand your loss

Someday you'll know the reason

for the changing of the seasons

the ebbing of the tide from shore

but for now, my answer is,

I love them more.

Copyright 2000-2008

January Grey

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