What Am I?
By Katherine B. Parilli
What am I when nothing I seek to become can I achieve?
When I try time after time to touch the stars;
So grand and worthy,
Yet falter and fail to reach their beauty.
How I long to succeed and climb the lofty towering mountains,
To overcome the driving rains,
Endure the mud slick roads,
To gaze down from those heavenly peaks.
But no matter what I do,
No matter how hard I try,
The blinding wind,
The devouring fire,
And consuming locust,
Like an impenetrable fortress sands between me and my dreams.
I do not seek great wealth.
I do not wish for absolute power.
Just to inspire the heart.
To comfort the grieving soul,
And give aid to the weary.
Still I stand so helplessly alone.
As aimless as the drift wood seeking the shore of a deserted isle lost in the raging waters.
My heart growing weary,
My way clouded by ceaseless tears,
And the candle of hope burning thin.
How I long for a champion’s hand.
To feel the tender touch of my beloved’s uplifting touch.
What joy my pounding ears would now to hear my dearest one’s voice.
A beacon of hope amidst the bleating crowd would that soft calling sound,
Those tender words of promises be to my battle tired heart.
And still I stand alone.
My blind eyes too worn to see him amongst the faceless crowd,
His tender loving touch only a fanciful fleeting haunting dream.
The words of comfort and love that I long for,
That I know that he would speak,
Remain a silent time forgotten dream.
A lone amongst the working elements I do wait.
Longing to know the joy of life,
To taste of pleasures I have never dared to dream of.
Waiting and wonder who am I that I must wait so long.
Wondering why the crowd passes wordlessly by.
Hoping with each new day I will finally grasp one of my precious dreams,
Holding it close as a priceless gem.
Yet through I see not His shadow,
Though I cannot fell His presence,
I know that I am not fully alone,
There is none who stands quietly by my side.
There is one willing to hold my trembling hand.
Why the hand of love,
The crown of success,
He has withheld from my pale hand,
I cannot say.
But I still know that He cares.
I know someday soon I shall understand why I needed to endure so long in my solitary corner.
Trusting with all my bleeding heart that the hands which suffered so much for me,
The blood that was spilt from a broken bruised body on my behalf,
Would never leave me to fail and falter.
Each pant of pain which rips my heart He too does feel.
Each sob of mine is echoed in His Beloved voice.
Each tear that I shed He takes notice.
And though I know not what I may be upon this dusty trail,
I trust that someday,
Not so far away,
I will at last one day be a jewel of great price,
Tried and true,
Made pure and bright in the Makers Hand.
Forever to shine in Heavenly glory,
At last to reach my full untapped potential.
Clinging in gratitude to the arms that carried me carefully through each tearful, rocky path so I could shine so bright as and eternal child of the Almighty King of Kings.
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