SuziCate's Musings

Posts tagged ‘Virginia’

Closing the Chasm

bridges and nature 044

Bridges cross divides,

 joining worlds once set apart,

making dreams come true.

Open hearts and hands

build bridges across the world;

help make dreams come true.

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Ghosts of the Maritime Forest

Pounded by wind, rain, and unforgiving sun, they divulge no secrets. They do not whisper as they dance upon the sand to romance the sea. Muted tones of earth tell the history of what will never be said. Haunted creaks along the shore fall silent in the  distant crashing waves.

Pounded by wind, rain,
and unforgiving sun, they
divulge no secrets.
They do not whisper
as they dance upon the sand
to romance the sea.
Muted tones of earth
tell the history of what
will never be said.
Haunted creaks along
the shore fall silent in the
distant crashing waves.

When Bridges Fly

AP swinging bridge

 

Long is the bridge which connects worlds of time.

Short is the distance it takes to arrive.

We must look past the shadows

and be blinded by the light to see.

There is a point in which all things meet,

a space where the pulsing of life emerges

and all with wings soar.

A Love Like No Other

crabtree falls 082

A trail of tears fall

 from heaven to cleanse this earth

in pureness of love

In Memory Of Camille

They went to work, visited folks,

tended their farms, and ventured out to play.

They cooked, cleaned, and shopped.

It was nothing extraordinary, just another day.

Until the Heavens broke beneath a veil of darkness,

and the pounding rains came beating down.

Twenty-five inches in just five hours time,

life as they knew it was no where to be found.

Lives that were not stolen in the night

were shattered like shards of broken glass.

Mountains tumbled, and fields became rivers,

devastating a once lush green land mass.

Screams muffled by the river’s roar,

survivors clung to life on roof and trees.

Searching through death and ruin, rescuers

hoped to find life and listened for pleas.

People gathered, prayed, and labored

as sorrowful hearts echoed the torn land.

They buried, salvaged, cleared, and rebuilt.

And the strangers they came, offered a hand.

So much happened in so little time ,

what a difference a day can make-

And when our souls are tested,

it’s amazing how much we can take.

When we have God and community,

upon which to lay our burdens down,

we have a place to plant our roots

that is sturdier and trustier than ground.

Scars upon the mountains, hearts, and souls,

but amongst thorns, flowers still grow.

Through love and courage, the people prevail,

and Nelson is still the home I know.

Sunday Scribblings prompt is “What a difference a day can make”.

****This is written about Hurricane Camille that devasted the county I lived in when I was six years old. This tells the story in my other blog. The photograph above the poem is my husband’s grandfather’s home that was destroyed in the flood.

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