Monday, May 14, 2007
A poem for GrandMom on Mother's Day
Isn't it amazing how life goes on
a brown branch is now a green one.
Wind stirs the tall pines and
the Confederate jasmine blooms on.
Roses unfurl into a fragrant color cloud
and the pansies smile and nod.
Here comes the mail man;
There goes the neighbor.
What is for supper?
And it's Monday again.
Change the sheets
and put away the things assembled
on the bed side table.
Gather up the papers
and tend to the details.
Answer the door, feel the warm cake,
smell the warm meat, comfort the children.
Clothes and shoes
are needed no more,
for they've been left behind.
Now the raiment is robes of righteousness;
the perfume is the presence of the Lord.
The jewelry is crown and palm branch
and glasses, crippled toes and
bone marrow cancer
are no more.
"O Death, where is thy sting?
O grave, where is thy victory?"
The sting of death is sin and
the strength of sin is the Law.
But thanks be unto God,
which hath given us victory
through our Lord Jesus Christ.
Therefore my beloved brethren,
be ye steadfast, unmovable,
abundant always in the works of the Lord,
forasmuch as ye know that your labor
is not in vain in the Lord." 1 Corinthians 15. 55-58
In loving, heart~felt memory and in honor of
Dorothy Jean Baell Cox
November 13, 1932~April16, 2007