Above or Below

Life is a blank page, to be written by me, the deeds of my past, are some days all I see.

 

The tempest and storm, the fear and the foe they march through my head, with hard heels and steel toes.

 

Peace can be found in the view from high places, yet to partake from that spot it requires heavens grace.

 

I tremble sometimes in my souls inner space, in my private real world, where memories lay waste.

 

It's not all doom and gloom, for the warrior with soft heart, at times life is warm as the sound of a lark.

 

It has appeared from the sky high above my low place, the lark beckons me upward to fly in his grace.

 

I have tried on my own to reach above the low mire, stretching, bending and jumping, I fail and I tire.

 

With energies long spent, but hope still keen, I rely on the master who say’s “come all to me”.

 

I run faster and farther than ever before, with renewed hope in his light I am changed more and more.

 

Yes I have done the deeds of few, I have been in the fray, shoulder to shoulder with my brothers in the world and the gray.

 

It turns fast, hard, and strong, as I have joined it while spinning, my soul has been robbed.

 

The warrior loves his fellow, that is the why he does the deed, his soul is marked forever, a price worthy of his creed.

 

Things are not as clear as before the deeds were done, the abyss is unforgiving just as the deep dark and black.

 

The sea is not black but blue you pause, you ask what has happened to change the colors, the laws.

 

I say to you now as I still live still in flesh, that blue is the color viewed, while high above the rest.

 

When sunk in the dark of struggle and glare, we see with eyes narrow so blurred and unfair.

 

To see clear and upright we must be in high places, safe from the hard ground, among angel faces.

 

The stage is set, I slip once again Into dark places, where we lose the mightiest of men.

 

I pray in humble tones forsake the old thoughts, healed to forget and live with the loss.

 

Rise and blend with others and mix to the crowd, knowing well our life's filters have become why we bow.

 

We have spent life giving by the warrior creed, we have laid down our safe places for others, the deed.

 

Is there anything to give to those close to us now, or is the chasm to wide as the scars on the brow.  

 

I walk the graves of the brave who still silent lay, men who met their great maker with their final measure paid.

 

A reminder forever of fields, foes and deeds,  intense in my heart I reflect pray and seek.

 

My marker not yet etched, with the epitaph of mine, in humble tones to do good, I ask for more time.

 

When I rest in the earth and rise the last time, to the high place above all, my spirit will shine.

 

I will see blue water and vistas below, All things will be gilded in a heavenly glow.

 

The mire is gone and peace found In his grace, amazed by the peace as I stare at his face.

 

By the grace of the master who has suffered for all, have I found the high places, no more scars or flaws.

 

Now on earth do good, be a friend to the foe, mark time that is passing with love firm in tow.

 

Come join in  peace that abounds with no end, say goodbye to low places the home of broken men.

 

Rise up oh ye troubled, fear not in the world, for we dwell with Gods graces, his powers untold.

 

Be strong and take courage, fear not little flock, the masters full graces will heal all that’s lost.

Leave a comment

Please note, comments must be approved before they are published