I call you from the mountaintop of fragrant angelic wings
while you sink in the despair of discontent and ‘things.’
I call you from a high place so you will look up and see
a glimpse of the images I have of you when you draw close to me
the times when you have felt repentant and found the words to say
“Forgive me, Lord I should not have handled it this way.”
the guilt attached to your reactions when you have listened to mere man
who creates the impression that he has the right to plan
your life, your home, your dreams, your love
and aware of “Thou shalt not judge” you don’t retaliate,
denying the infernal pestilence the mastery of your fate
Stop awhile and think of the good you do
the generosity of spirit that makes you YOU
the card, the call, such little things, after all
the prayer said in the silence of your room
away from the distractions of media hype and gloom
sometimes you chide yourself for not having the words to say
picture the situation, I’ll understand anyway
don’t let another’s jealousy or spite disturb your sleep
learn from the experience, and inner peace reap
stand up and be counted; you will find a way
I will uphold you, little one, and by your side, I will stay
