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Poetry by Shigé Clark

"Let the battered heart rejoice"

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comfort

Frail Comfort

In offering to my several friends who have recently lost dear ones… Words cannot begin to touch this. But what I have, I give you.

Frail Comfort

Theme Week: Fighting for Light – 1

Light in Darkness

The stars that burn against the void
Are mirrored by the fireflies
That sparkle under twilight trees,
With fields as their expansive skies.
The moon pours down upon the sea
Shimmering milk on chocolate surf,
That makes soft gray of all the sands,
And gentle sloths the searing turf.
Beauty is not confined to day,
For in the dark and dread of night,
We see the common world anew.
Our souls can always find the light.

– s. Clark

Kindred Souls

How wonderful and rare it is
In this odd and untidy earth
To find a soul akin to yours,
That understands your wild mirth

How wonderful and rare as well,
And tragic as the winter rain
To find a soul that also shares
The hollow echo of your pain

– s. Clark

Theme Week: Prayer – 1

To Me

To Me, to Me, oh child of mine
To Me, to Me in the fray
To Me, warrior, in the hardest times
To Me when the dark hides the day

Come running to the Healer of scars
Whenever the storm won’t abate
Come back to me when you’ve wandered too far
To Me when your wrongs are too great

To Me! To Me when you’re bleeding and raw
To Me when the tears will not end
I’m here, though you’ve broken and mocked every law
Unending, I am still your Friend

Little one, when you need arms that are strong
To hold your bloody pieces in whole,
The times when you know you’ve done everything wrong,
To Me, with despair in your soul

To Me, oh my child, with blood on your hands
Rest your head when you are weary
To Me, when you know you can no longer stand
And when you can see nothing clearly

To Me when you doubt, and to Me when you rage
To Me when you fear every road!
To Me when you’re young, and to Me when you age
To Me, come to Me with your load

And if you should break so you cannot go on,
In life when your head is bowed low,
Then bring me your cares until they are all gone
To Me, dear one, I want to know!

To Me, for I’m kind. To Me, for I’m good
To Me, for I don’t ever leave
Even though you do not do as you should,
I give love until you receive

To Me, for I’m wise, and to Me for My will
For no one else will be enough
To Me for your needs. To Me, and be still…
To Me for My limitless love

– s. Clark

Something about a Candle

There is something about a candle.
So patient, and so calm
Slowly, softly, just existing
So frail, and yet so bright and merry
Fiercely burning, for the small life that it has
Bringing light and warmth
And sweet-smelling joy
Only gives, only provides, for its time is short

– s. Clark

I Told Him, Smiling (Desert Poem)

The desert, arid land of heat and pain,
In its wind of sorrow and of doubt
Carries best my amorous refrain…
And the burning thirst makes me cry out
Louder than I could within the rain
Causes me to stronger seek the well
That ends my need for water. Spirit-spring.
And the sand-torn tempests there compel
Me to beg a clean breath from my King
Forcing me to kneel, and learn to dwell
In Him, the Master of the Wilderness.
I’ve come to learn, His grace its deepest falls
Within my widest deserts of distress
And I hear clearest His pursuing calls
Within that silent ache of loneliness.
So come, oh barren land, oh field of tears,
Come, and I will learn to tread your sands
For those who mourn are comforted, and years
Of self-death teach me rest within His hands
And joy, for my Love always reappears.

– s. Clark

Oh what a glory, blessed am I!
What a privilege, by and by
To serve my King within the eye
Of every storm, ‘neath any sky!

Oh what a triumph, joy so great
To stand with Him in midst of hate
And know His love does not abate!
And learn His patience as I wait

Oh what a peace is mine, to know
That He is there within the throw
Of pain, of pride, of grief, and so
To be raised high when I am low!

Oh what a joyous life is mine
To cling so closely to the vine
Where hope, and truth, and grace entwine!
To humbly walk His narrow line

What comfort now, when sorrows rise
To look within His shining eyes
And find Him good, and true, and wise!
To know Him, as my precious prize!

– s. Clark

Comfort Neglected

How often I have passed beside
This self-same tree, and never spied
The flowers peaking twixt its leaves,
Hanging my head so low to grieve.
So caught was I in my despair,
I did not chance to see it there,
And missed its beauty’s gentle touch,
Which I have needed ne’er so much.

– s. Clark

Rush

Stand up your shattered bones
And tell them they must walk.
Reweave your stolen vocal cords,
And learn once more to talk.
Instruct your greying eyes,
“See beauty once again”
Reach out your hand to halt the sun
And wipe away the rain.
Insist that winter cease
And bring at once the spring,
Banish the night with its fell chill,
Command the birds to sing.
I know you want to heal,
You’re only at the start.
And as with all good things on earth,
You cannot rush the heart.

– s. Clark

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