Solar eclipse - lunar bites

I still remember like it was this morning the first time I woke up to the sun and the moon concomitantly sharing the glory of the clear blue German skies, with equally impressive presence. That was over some eight years ago. Today I had the chance, again in Europe to experience a thing of fascination, an even more intimate romantic display between the sun and the moon. If you want to see what was experienced in Brussels today you can watch the short video here by clicking on the partial solar eclipse link... Below I wrote a poem... there is a picture of Brussel's skies this morning at the end of the poem.

http://www.timeanddate.com/eclipse/in/belgium/brussels

Solar eclipse - lunar bites!

The clouds worked hard overtime,

To form a moving veil which mostly masked the overhead skies,

It was about thirty minutes after nine am,

We prayed for a momentary tearing of that veil,

Prayers were answered,

The sun showed up,

It happened fast,

The moon nibbled in artistic small bites,

Violating the integrity of the perfect rotundity of the sun,

A thing of marvel, 

A thing of beautiful mind blowing art,

Bite after bite after bite after bite,

And instead of crying a shower in protest,

The sun was transformed from the lunar bites,

Into a glorious smile which graced the dark morning skies.

https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7595/16251338204_e232442a51_b.jpg

Brussels © March 2015 afesehngwaHilary

The little lies!

https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3110/4597837934_87098c6ca0_b.jpg

The little lies we tell the world,

To mask our vulnerability,

In many layered facades,

Making them almost non-existent,

The little lies we tell the world,

To doctor the perceptions,

To curry favors,

In the unfolding drama,

On theater of the world stage,

The lies about the might of our strength,

The lies to excuse our falls,

The economized truth about our moral rectitude,

The lies about what is right,

So that wrong might have a place in the sun,

The deception in motives,

Caught in stereotypical locomotives,

The lies about our prison cells,

The lies about our captivity,

To the whim of sinful desire,

We say one thing and mean another,

Do one thing and claim the other,

The lies about our security,

Built on a fractured foundation of self,

Raised with the brick of rabid desires,

Insatiable desires to please the world,

In return for approval ratings and false validations,

And in the process we bypass the most important of all,

The validation of that one most important one,

The God of the heavens and the earth,

The one who supplies the breath at your nostrils,

The one who keeps the air in your lungs,

The one who holds the muscles of your heart,

The one who pumps the life in your veins,

The one who holds the planetary bodies in their place,

The one who has the world inscribed on the palm of his hand,

The one who has the heavens as a canopy and the earth as a footstool,

The one who has the prerogative to without explanation,

Without consultation order the end,

The little lies we tell ourselves,

That we are self made,

When we did not make one dead cell,

One dead cell of our entire body make up.

Brussels © March 2015 afesehngwaHilary

Don't let doubt steal your clout!

https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2846/10467039534_e3a32b4555_b.jpg

When dark clouds gather,

Violate the beauty of your ability to be father,

When dark clouds of doubt gather in your mental sky,

Before you know the skies begin to helplessly cry,

And the floods from the downpour rock the foundations of your being,

Sharpening your view of things you were previously not seeing,

As you face life's many bouts,

It is okay to doubt,

But never let it take away your clout,

Let it grow your mettle,

Succeeding pilgrims never settle,

So even in doubt thoughtfully keep doing,

Till you get going,

And when your heart begins to really ache,

It is a scream that it needs a break,

It is in dire need to shed its pain,

Failure to molt that painful skin is sure to be your bane.

                               Brussels © March 2015 afesehngwaHilary

Success!

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It has no quantifiable price...

It is not some tangible good which can be bought...

It is not an end...

It is how much you can allow God gift the world through you,

It is excelling in the little things of daily life,

Like carving a genuine smile on your face,

One which gives others permission to do the same,

It is the warmth in a simple handshake,

Warm enough to turn another's winter to summer,

The loving kiss on the cheek,

It is the listening ear,

It is the lending hand,

The lips which bless,

It is the joke,

It is remembering to sing 'happy birthday',

Say hello from the depths of your heart,

Checking on a stressed out fellow (wo)man,

Sharing the joys and the pain,

The loss and the gain,

It is the validation of our common humanity,

In our words and actions,

In our frailty and our strength,

It is prayerfully being the best you can possibly be,

Better every time,

So that when all is said and done,

What gets into the grave is fully spent for the Glory of God...

Fully spent, Fully spent!

                                             Brussels © March 2015 afesehngwaHilary

Soar like an Eagle!

https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7457/12298648736_25dbcf3f91_b.jpg

Drop the bottles and pick up the spade,

Stay away from the drug trade,

Drop the gun,

Back to school with a run,

Use those wings and fly,

The skies anxiously beckon with a sigh,

Waste not your potential,

Make your growth exponential,

You are the hope of the future,

Shapers of the current culture,

Make it what you want,

Let nobody tell you you can't,

It wouldn't be easy,

If you don't want to be cheesy,

You have to weather the storm,

It only helps to keep you in form,

Take your time to grow,

Prepare the ground before you sow,

That is if you care about the quality of harvest,

Path might be through a mountain tall like Evarest,

But you can beat the climb,

Use the rocks to climb,

Enjoy the journey,

If you want the honey,

You have to brave the bees,

If you want fruits you need to plant the trees,

Out of the door,

Off the floor,

Tap from your core,

Soar, soar, soar,

Like an Eagle.

                                         Brussels © March 2015 afesehngwaHilary

Imperfect mirror!

https://farm4.staticflickr.com/3480/3228740860_e637bb5e99_b.jpg

I stand before the looking glass,

An imperfect mirror,

Mirroring nothing of who I really am,

I see nothing but the guise of skin,

Doctored with human hands,

Frantically and frenetically,

Fixing perceived physical imperfections,

To suit a societal mores,

That tells me nothing about me,

Shows me nothing about the real me,
Who am I?

Then I stand before the mirror of the WORD of God,

O my ghosh!

I can barely look,

Confronted with a reality of me I never met,

I never knew me,

I have really never met me,

The real me,

The condition of my heart,

The wretchedness of my life,

The fractures and dislocations of my mind,

The filth and the stench,

Self righteousness now cowers before the truth,

A once delusive mighty me dwarfed before the King of Kings,

Now that I know me,

And my sick estate,

I let the master Physician,

Doctor me as He wills,

I let Him undo me,

I let Him break me,

I let Him melt me,

Re-mold me,

Equip me,

Fill me,

...And use me as He wills,

Oh it hurts but I can't stand the demons in me,

I want a better me,

Now that I know me,

Boasting is fatally poisoned by truth,

I know and I know and I know,

That I am nothing without Him.

Brussels © March 2015 afesehngwaHilary

A soldier's sacrifice!

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When duty's call is war's call,
Through me and other soldiers,
The nation must stand tall,
I look into my three year old's quizzical eyes,
Fumbling in my thoughts,
Stammering in my words,
Vainly trying to make her understand,
What daddy is about to do,
The risky escapade I am about to embark on,
Then I look into my wife's anxious eyes,
She understands but cannot accept,
As I hug them both trying to be strong,
As their sobs reach my ears,
And their tears wet my uniform,
I melt like butter before an approaching flame,
Emotional meltdown,
Then I seize myself in denial,
Rushing to the plane,
Many questions on my mind,
Who sent me to be a soldier?
I was not drafted,
This is a choice I made,
What motivated me?
Was it the money and the glory?
Was it mere love for the uniform?
Is it sheer love for my country?
As I continued to embrace my thoughts,
Even as I said my byes,
Praying I would return before I die,
It dawned on me the real reason I am a soldier,
It is for my daughter and my wife,
My family and my friends,
My loved ones,
My beloved country,
I know especially when that national anthem plays,
My country seizes and owns me,
Maybe these are the lies I tell myself,
Hoping all these noble reasons will ease the pain,

As I told my wife we'll see when I'am back,
I knew there's a real chance I'll be shot dead before I do,
I leave behind family, friends and the comfort of home,
Marching forward to the front lines of fire,
All the while bringing with me,
My life and my strength and courage,
Imploring the almighty to be my guard and guide,
As I face the whizzing of bullets,
The whistling of brutal winds,
The glow of enemy fire,
The deafening din of fatal volleys from the other camp,
The panic and constant threat of death,
Staring me in the face with every passing moment,
The thought of my little girl growing up without me makes it worse,
The weight of ammunition and armor on my body,
The trenchant shellacking from a merciless winter,
Fighting a war at many fronts,
Physically, emotionally, spiritually,
Occasional temptation from beautiful civilians in the zone,
The grueling pain of watching a comrade fall in combat,
The scars of trauma from just being there,
Causing the enemy's fall and watching comrades fall,
The sheer dilemma of saving life by taking away life,
The battles of moral justification between philosophies of war,
The mental battles are the most grueling,
As people die like flies,
Others disabled and maimed for life,
Oh the scars of living through this,
Accrued unpaid debt of sleep,
Going through every moment hoping the next will come,
And if is it doesn't,
Ah that killing thought,
That thought which kills me every moment,
Many times before death ever comes,
But if the next moment never comes,
I pray that it would have been a worthy expenditure of a life,
That God almighty will have me in his bosom,
And watch over my comrades and loved ones,
This is part of the soldiers sacrifice.

Brussels © March 2015 afesehngwaHilary