I wish y’all a great Easter in advance.
As is norm, I give you a body of words that will leave you thinking at the end; my retelling of an old story.
I think you will like it.
Read! Like!! Comment!!! FOLLOW!!!
THE ANCIENT HURT…
“Weep not, child”, the granny said,
“Dry them tears, my little lass
Death will come for you or I,
There’s no telling whose call is next!”
So you lost your father dear,
And your brothers, two, to war?
Now your heart is broke asunder,
This sorrow and grief; you’ll soon recover.
I’ll tell you a tale my little lass,
A tale of sorrow and heavy loss.
A tale of a lass much like you.
That you may learn; that you may grow.
Years ago, I was yet a girl,
I knew a girl; she was such a pearl.
Her beauty fair, beyond compare;
Her golden smile, like flowers rare.
Though she was loved by one and all,
Her life was steeped in misery.
She lost all love to memory,
Her tears, daily, like rain did fall.
Laid with another against her will,
Heavy with child before she was wed.
Her father passed for all his shame,
Her mother soon after with a broken heart.
She was taken for wife by a lowly man,
He gave her care, the much he could.
But he soon passed without a child,
They say he cursed his lot and died.
Her only child, her only love,
He was a lowly man with lofty ideals.
He tried to change the minds of men,
He died his death like a common thief.
I saw her there beneath his cross,
Kneeling and crying, dying inside.
She did no wrong, of that I’m sure,
But she outlived all she ever loved.
She lived out her days in a quiet daze,
Telling the world her son still lived.
Her loss, she never learned to yield,
And that sent her to an early grave.
So weep no more, my summer child,
For death will come for you or I.
Learn to live in spite of pain,
We’ll see the dead when we are dead.
P.s: Somebody needs to check this April baby thing… For real!!