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Saturday evening we were at dinner with some friends and I was sitting next to a 20 year old son of a friend. Between dinner and moments of conversation he would sneak a peek at a book open on his lap. I asked him what he was reading and he said it was a book of poetry from various poets. I know he writes poetry himself and his artist. When we were speaking about poetry I mentioned that in my younger days I considered myself a poet. I do not know if he believed me or not since these days I rarely write poetry.

Looking for something else on the computer I discover this poetic writing I had written in the 90’s in a class on Wisdom literature in the Bible.

I wrote this poem at a dark time in my life, during Lent, which is coming around this week on Wednesday. I found parts of the poem helpful to me in these days so I share:

LADY WISDOM

I lay my heavy of burdens at the feet of the Lord.
There is a whole bag full of them:
My son’s mental illness, my parents deteriorating condition,
All the concerns and worries at work,
My personal relationships with wife and friends.
They are all neatly wrapped in paper and ribbons,
Marked in boxes, categorized and heavy.
I lay them at the feet of the Lord.

Quietly from behind,
Lady Wisdom sneaks up on me.
With a smile and twinkle in her eye
She begins to open the bag
And to open each box.
I turn and say
“Oh no, please don’t.
I have spend many hours packing these burdens,
Labeling and wrapping them.
They are not pretty exposed.
Please let them be!”

Undaunted she continues to unwrap and open each box.
To my embarrassing surprise each box of burdens is empty.
Air, that’s all!
There is the box, label and wrapping of mine.
But inside there is nothing!

Looking like a fool, I insist: “The burden in the box was heavy.”
Lady Wisdom just smiles brighter and continues.
The Lord, now behind me,
Who in my excitement I forgot was there,
Just laughs.
Not knowing what to do I too begin to laugh.
Picking up the empty boxes and labels
I put them back into the bag.
Now my once heavy bag is light.
Still smiling, I sit down and rest,

Like a small child at Christmas,
I begin to play with the wrappings.

Comments

Janice Sevre-Duszynska — 08 March 2011, 09:07
 Our spirits are resilient…

You’ve captured what we do to
ourselves…and those Christmas
wrappings are, each one, unique
and delightful!

(:commentboxchrono:)

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