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Christmas
Swan
There's
a bridge
of life,
little
one must
tread
That spans
a raging
flow,
With bubbling
churn
over jagged
rocks,
Oftimes
high,
or sometimes
low.
Gingerly,
fledgling
steps
will creep-
Not feeling
very bold,
With ponder
for the
strength
ahead-
In hopes,
that it
will hold.
Oh, where
will this
great
crossing
lead.
What will
more days
unfold,
Friendships,
adventure,
fame and
glory-
Or riches
of pure
gold.
Will life
smile
sweet,
upon the
heart,
Romance
or affliction
send-
As little
feet twirl
on and
on-
How will
the story
end?
Musing
in soft
night
time dreams-
How fly,
on snow
white
wings,
To bring
some joy
into the
world
And change
the sway
of things.
But play
is now,
while
life is
sweet,
Before
the worries
all abound,
Oh, dance
wee one,
in softness
found
While
hearing
only pretty
sound.
Yet, pathways
turn,
arise
to follow
Direction
for life's
course,
Stepping
on a chosen
path,
Voices
echo,
forming
choice.
Some will
come,
with love
to care-
Others
play to
hurt,
abuse,
Some will
bring
laughter,
joy,
But others
lash,
intent
to bruise.
Days will
pass,
as blowing
wind
Time will
not stand
still,
Waters
flow beneath
the bridge,
Every
day, new
memory
filled.
Oh my,
would
life ahead
decline-
The years
e'er fade
of youthful
bloom,
Age, time,
ravage,
weaving
lines
Of character
upon life's
loom.
How safely
can one
speed
across,
Eyes lifted
to the
guiding
light,
To arrive
upon the
other
side-
Without
a falling
in the
night.
Look,
'pon bridge,
with arms
held wide
The Cross,
for stooping
down within,
There,
leave
heartbreak
with The
Lord,
Be freed
of every
sin.
Though
the little
cygnet
felt reject,
Pushed
aside,
in sore
neglect,
Now all
hopes
of life
are true
For only
love is
now ahead.
From that
dear Cross,
to rise
in light
Pure as
a snow
white
swan to
fly,
A Christmas
Swan,
for Kingdom's
reign-
To soar
with God
on high.
Now safe
in Him,
the bridge
e'er spanned,
Nevermore
to walk
alone,
He, the
wing of
flight
for aye-
The Christmas
Swan's
eternal
home.
Soft whispers
from
Derry's
Heart
Poems
© Nov
2009
Derry's
Heart
Poems
Poetry
from the
Heart
"I used
to think
–loving
life so
greatly
–
that to
die would
be like
leaving
a party
before
the end.
Now I
know that
the party
is really
happening
somewhere
else;
that the
light
and the
music
–escaping
in snatches
to make
the pulse
beat and
the tempo
quicken
–
come from
a long
way away.
And I
know too
that
when I
get there
the music
will never
end."
Evangeline
Paterson
  
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