On Tablets, a poem

This poem was a spark that moved me to think about developing this blog and remembering the visions I wrote.


I wrote this at the end of May after reading Habakkuk 2:2-3.



On Tablets

I once had a tablet full of dreams,
but at my darkest hour, I snatched
it from its secret place and ripped
it to shreds, for dreams are for naught.

Naught for a person like me; others got
their shine, seemingly at the right place
at the right time while I stood in a grocery
line, making provisions for me and mine.

I was working my fingers to the bone,
making sure lights stayed on in the home
but not on me, not on me and my dreams
that I allowed to be ripped at the seams.

I was making sure everyone was okay while
I put a delay on me and my life ’til years
ticked by and I realized I had stood still
and took care of everyone else’s ills.

I was sick in my heart, mind, and spirit,
but had no one to hear it for they were
making plans, and moving on, and seeing
a future I helped to shed light on.

In my darkness, with nothing left for me,
I wrote visions on tablets to abet dreams
into fruition and show the devil he didn’t
have me because one light still beamed.

That one light, My Father, showed me dreams
had not died despite my darkest hour; seeds
I planted flowered into a beautiful garden
to tend, to mend the broken parts of me.

And those dreams upon tablets will keep me
when I can’t keep myself and will move me
when life keeps me still and will teach me
when others try to kill my spirit and hope.

And those dreams, those visions will come
at their appointed time, shouting their truth
for they don’t lie, and I will be there, smiling
and waiting for them to come to pass.