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To Harriet McCanta My heart is heavy with
sadness, joy is nowhere to be
found, why is it so dark, so
cold? Just yesterday I was full
of gladness, my ears were filled with
joyous sound, my eyes with colors alive
and bold. I have gone from a
beautiful garden in bloom, full of flowers, colorful
and fragrant, to a desert, desolated,
full of gloom, abandoned and vagrant. What is it that I did
wrong? I always thought my love
was strong, yet here I am sad and
alone, with a heart that feels
like stone. No more, no more I say, Lord, take this pain away! Forgive me Lord, not my
will be done, let it be Yours, or none. I look at my children, I
see their faces, uncertainty, fear, pain
their graces, they pray to Him once
more, "Please make like it
was before." When I thought of her, the
center of my life, my heart trembled with
frenzy, she was my friend,
partner, lover and wife, the earth, moon and stars
looked at her with envy. I am in the darkest hole,
I see no light, I live, but this is not
life, all around me is pain and
blight, resentment, anger and
strife. When is this going to end, am I ever to see the
light? I am in the middle of the
raging sea, caught in a storm in the
dead of night. When will my soul mend, when will tranquil waters
come to me? |
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The days pass, one after
another, they are all the same, its
all a blur, no form, no shape, just
drab and gray, this is what seems here to
stay. Little by little the sun
arises, timid, with dread its
steps comprises as it tries to cast away
shadows to lead me from my
gallows. Is it the light I will
follow, or in my pity will I
wallow? The answer I have known
all along, it is hidden somewhere in
this song. Now, long at last the winter seems to be
past, the sun is high, spring is
here, birds chirp, life and hope
are near. There comes a time of
birth and renovation, not the phoenix from ashes
reborn, a true new person, with
love an innovation, the infirmity of loss of
self, torn. The journey thus began,
and now I go, where it will end, we all
know. Each day I will not take
for granted, for each moment I will
savor, let it be wanted. I am the secret, it was
always in me, but through the pain it
was hard to see. In your journey, dark
valleys you will enter, but you are never alone,
when He is the center. © Pedro Marenco Sacramento, CA October 21,
1993. |