It’s been a long time,
since I last laid eyes on you.
The years have been kind.
By Sylvia Porter-Hall
It’s been a long time,
since I last laid eyes on you.
The years have been kind.
By Sylvia Porter-Hall
It’s morning again.
So thankful to be alive,
to witness God’s love.
By Sylvia Porter-Hall
From the day of your arrival on to this earth,
people have cherished you.
Upon your death, would you want the same?
What would you want them to do?
Would you want the good that you have done,
to be fondly recollected?
Would you want your accomplishments accurately chronicled,
emphasizing the many you’ve affected?
It is hard to determine how this will go,
since you will no longer be here.
The wheel that you once sat behind,
now beyond your control to steer.
As you sit in the wings and watch this play out,
if you could, would you change a thing?
Would you be pleased with the bittersweet songs,
that mournful voices sing?
By Sylvia Porter-Hall
Sometimes in life we just go numb,
emotionally drained, down to the last little crumb.
The pain of life is often too much,
open wounds are raw and sensitive to the touch.
But once people go numb, what does that mean?
How dull the senses, that once were keen?
Will the treatment of others continue to worsen?
The obvious affects on each and every person?
Once people are numb, can they ever come back,
from a road of darkness and eternal black?
Or is it a conscious choice that one makes,
to take the risk, putting everything at stake?
Upon their return, will they have changed?
Will their once dismal thoughts be newly arranged?
Only time will tell, a journey incomplete,
so tired the bodies and calloused feet.
At least when people are numb, they don’t have to feel,
the layers of pain that slough off and peel.
Maybe being numb is not such a bad thing.
It helps to soften the pain of life’s sting.
By Sylvia Porter-Hall
Unknown roads are hard to follow,
no guarantee they will lead to tomorrow.
New experiences and adventures, waiting to be discovered,
are often blocked and thoroughly covered.
By paths so murky, can’t see where I’m going.
The roads are unpredictable, anxiety free-flowing.
But my steps are ordered, so I’ve been told,
according to the scripture of testament old.
But if I pay close attention, I don’t need to see.
My faith in God is what guides me.
As I make my way to life’s next intersection,
God is right there with me, in my mind’s reflection.
There to guide me should I stumble and fall.
He has heard my cry, even before I call.
Faith propels me to get up and try again.
To follow the roads as they twist and bend.
My faith has grown every step of the way.
A guiding light for each new day.
Penetrating the darkness that eclipses my view,
making way for the traveling I have yet to do.
By Sylvia Porter-Hall
In the moonless darkness of the soul, the men cry,
without a clue or an inkling why.
Voiceless are they, in the darkness of night,
longing for slumber, that is nowhere in sight.
What to do? This is not how men behave,
grappling and reaching for the rest that they crave.
Quickly swept away by their own waterfalls,
self-made currents that stifle their calls.
Hollow are the souls that harbor these men,
tear-stained trails mark where they have been.
If the moon does appear, will it shed some light?
For a vision renewed, restoration of sight.
By Sylvia Porter-Hall
Images: Free Google Images
The sweet music of nature sings to me,
each morning when I rise.
The melodious sound, is the first thing I hear,
a welcome morning surprise.
The birds are chirping with great excitement,
even though they have not a clue.
Somehow they know they have a purpose,
there’s something they need to do.
So each morning in a purposeful way,
they sing a familiar tune.
What a lovely way to wake each morning,
how beautiful the songs they croon.
By Sylvia Porter-Hall
Images: Free Google Images
I never knew how important you were,
until I had to say goodbye.
Even though some time has passed since then,
I can’t stop wondering why.
To suffer the loss of such vital parts,
that I never thought I would.
I’ve learned to take one day at a time,
by embracing the bad and the good.
The hazy self-image in my mirrored reflection,
is a reminder to me every day.
I certainly would not be the person I now am,
had things not worked out this way.
I had to lose these pieces of me,
to find my true self worth.
I’m a better person, in spite of the loss.
I have found my purpose on earth.
By Sylvia Porter-Hall
If I were a success,
what would that mean for me?
Would it be everything,
I had imagined it to be?
If I were a success,
how would things really change?
Would my preconceived notions,
become quickly rearranged.
If I were a success,
would I be true to myself?
Or would I be ruined,
by fortune and wealth?
If I were a success,
would I be complete?
Would I share the real me,
or selfishly retreat?
If I were a success,
would I gain many friends?
Would I be a frequent topic,
of social media trends?
If I were a success,
a better person would I be?
Would the true person I am,
be easy to see?
Hopefully!
By Sylvia Porter-Hall
Thanks to everyone for all of the wonderful support of my blog in 2014. A special thanks to my most frequent comment makers and very interactive fellow bloggers: Levi Thetford, Lorrie Bowden, Mihrank, Viktoryarch and The True Light. Your positive support is priceless!! 🙂
The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 2,500 times in 2014. If it were a cable car, it would take about 42 trips to carry that many people.
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