Poetry

The most moving Christian suffering poetry

The Uninvited Guest 10/31/06

by Ellen Smith

Who asked you to join me?

I didn’t expect you and I don’t wish to recognize you

Why did you choose to come to me?

And, when can I expect you to leave?

You are with me constantly

I feel you in my blood

I am drained by your presence

I am losing my life as I’ve know it

All because of you, the uninvited guest

So, when are you leaving?

No one seems to be able to help me get rid of you

This has gone on for too long

I hope you know you were not invited

Why can’t you get the hint that you are not welcome?

You need to leave me

Let me have the quality of life return

You are an uninvited quest

The Stars Are Aligned 11/01/06

by Ellen Smith

Yes, the stars are aligned for me today

Have you ever heard of this happening?

There seems to be that magical day when everything falls into place

Today, is that day for me

When the stars are aligned for me,

I feel energetic

I feel the mind has more clarity

I feel that hopes and dreams can really be seen to fruition

I feel on top of the world

As I treasure this moment,

I know it won’t last forever

So, I try to document, for safe keeping, the enlightened moments in my mind

I allow myself to dream it will last forever

I must be grateful for whatever time is given to me to experience this relief.

Today, I got to feel free

I could unburden my troubles and cast them to the wind

Today, the stars were aligned for me

I could be like you for a short moment.

Borrowed Time 11/15/06

by Ellen Smith

We all use borrowed time

Each day we awake

Each step we take

Each sound we hear

Each taste

Each laugh

Each touch

It’s all on borrowed time

We need to remember that each of these is a gift

We need to treasure what we have been given

We need to find the good in our moments traveling through life

For, these are borrowed times we’ve been given

Some of us will have a lot of time to borrow

Some of us will have ours cut short

But what we have in common is the gift of the time we have been given

Remember, its borrowed time

Make the best of your gift

Playing Pretend 7/18/07

by Ellen Smith

When I am around you

I am good at playing pretend

Living with EDS has taught me that

After so many years of not being diagnosed and understood

There was no choice but to put up my armor

I try not to tell you that I am scared

I try not to share the level of pain I have gained

I try not to explain how rapidly I feel this decline

I try not to tell you that I wonder how many more procedures this body can take

Or how many more years I can endure this

I try to suck it all up and smile like all is well

However, a few of you allow me to let my guard down

You ask

You listen

I feel your compassion

You give me support and strength to move on

I thank you for that

For,

I prefer not to play the game of pretend!

Butterflies are Free

by Butterfly

For so long I had been trapped in a cocoon of fear, shame, guilt and denial, knowing I had to find a way out or I would shrivel up and die. I kept trying to find a way out of the tight space I was trapped in but could find no openings and was giving up hope. Then finally I discover and obvious opening - did I have the strength to work my way though it? Was I able to leave this uncomfortable, miserable and yet familiar surrounding and venture into unknown and unexplored territory?

Freedom

I’d run barefoot, on the sand-strewn beach,hair flying childlike, with glee,
my arms spread wide,
my breath breathed clean, and
I felt what it’s like, to be free….Oh I found such gifts in the salty sand,
gifts from the morning tide,
some shells from the sea,
special jewels sent for me,
’cause I’d ended the violent ride!

The gulls screeched and swooped,
and the boats tossed and turned,
and the sun shone midst the waves
by their side,
and I ran, and I ran, ’til I could run
no more,
then I fell in the sand, and I cried…..

© By Rainbows

Day to Night

by Kendra Nafziger

The Day becomes night so quickly,

And the eyes that were open no longer can see.

Reality fades into a blur of confusion.

Pain envelopes me into submission.

Where is the real me?

This is not who I choose to be.

But this is my reality.

Is it my responsibility?

Pain grips me in a raging sea,

of helplessness and cries, “why me?”

But I will rise again, you see,

for this is not what defines me.

I am more than what this makes me be.

With mercy for others just like me.

When no one else believes their cries,

I am the one who knows their sighs.

I show light of hope for those,

who suffer in the migraines’ throes.

Hope that Night will soon be Day,

And grace enough to lead the way,

To freedom from pains’ grip and say,

“We made it into the light of Day!”