sacred morning star

sacred morning star

A Poem by Deborah Leah Krempa


 

Sacred morning star!


A Poem by debileah
 

Oh Sacred Morning Star!

Once upon a time long, long ago there lived a boy named Boo.

He was blessed by the heaven's,

before his mother's womb, he ever knew.

For troubles came to her, that were not heaven sent.

And it is said, that mother earth reached forth her hands.

She cried out to touch grandfather sky!

And so, he spoke to her!

He said "Vengeance is mine, so saith the lord!"

But all she could hear was the words of Shakespeare!

"Hell hath no fury, like a woman scorned!"

So as with all things, the season's changed.

The young maiden came into the autumn of her life.

With the crisp arid dryness of fallen leaves, in the woods.

Her spirit died!

A swollen acheing soreness arising in her burning throat.

She screamed forth in her distress!

Blaming herself for someone else's infidelity!

For was this not her cross to bear?

Oh Sacred Morning Star!

Who feeds the rivers of life?

Whose children no not hunger?

Who am I?

I am nothing!

Out of these ashes, I stand in awe of you!

Take this wretched life, oh Lord.

Shape me and mold me out of earthen clay.

Breathe into my nostrils, your eternal light of day!

And then she sighed.

Wait!

There was a movement, a fluttering, a quivering of life!

A kick or two, her belly moved.

She was awakened by the sound,

of another's heartbeat; inside her womb!

Grandfather must have heard her prayers!

For finally the season changed to spring.

The birds like angels were singing praises.

The flowers were in full bloom.

The wild life fresh and new.

Even the concrete jungle, could not interfere.

Nothing could hold her back!

This was Grandfather's promise!

That there be no test, no tribulation set before her;

that she could not overcome.

Oh yes! She would be richly blessed!

It was on a hot summer night in July.

She held him in her arms.

Wrapped in the softest of blanket.

He had the brightest of sky-blue eyes.

And a little pug nose.

With a spanking and a screaching cry!

He had taken his first breath of life!

"This little man of mine!" said she.

She sang to him lullabies and danced with him in her arms.

From her heart she sang;

"As you grow into a man one day, it will be so hard to let you go!"

So remember this song, my son...

With the wings of a bird I may not fly!

But with these hands I shall reach the sky!

© 2008 Deborah Leah Krempa


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Reviews

Such sweet and gentle words you weave, debileah. May peace be yours always.

Posted 16 Years Ago


You captured some very real events and used words to paint the picture wonderfully. Very well done!

Posted 16 Years Ago



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Added on February 9, 2008

Author

Deborah Leah Krempa
Deborah Leah Krempa

Toledo, OH



About
I am grandmother,.. My children and my grandchildren I love them all so very much. They are my gifts from my creator, the blessings in this life. I simply adore poetry and the .. more..

Writing