A Better Place

Some days the sorrows and cares of this world get me down. The bright enthusiastic outlook that I seek to maintain for a few moments breaks down as instead of seeing a field of bright flowers, I notice the thousands of stubborn weeds threatening to destroy the beauty of life. Everywhere I see and hear of trial, tribulation, calamity, strife, suffering, and death.

Oh how my heart aches during those times when I pause to think of all the suffering that fills this world. It is hard enough to have ones hopes and dreams put on the sidelines due to pain, but when I hear the fearful stories of mass scale human suffering brought on by selfishness and supreme indifference to the needs of their fellowman it makes my heart long so desperately for that promised day of rest when sin and its resulting cruelties at last come to an end. As I ponder the untold depth of suffering that fills this doomed world, my hopes and dreams for this earthly life slip into the background, and are replaced with a longing for that wondrous day when death and tears are no more.

It was one day, while contrasting the life of heart ache and suffering that this world has to offer with the wondrous promise of Heaven where pain and sorrow are no more that my heart was overcome with longing for that promise rest and was inspired to write the following poem.

A Better Place

By Katherine B. Parilli

Sometimes I wish that I could be shut away from the noisy world.

Leave all its problems behind.

To go to a place where everything is beautiful.

The troubles and cares are gone.

There is no war.

No death.

And no heartbreak.

 

To live where the birds song.

A gentle breeze blows.

And trees are as far as the eye can see.

 

Gentle rolling hills break through the monotony of the forest.

Leading into flowered valleys where all sorts of animals run free from fear.

The huge cats play gently with a tiny pup.

A deer runs side by side with a wolf.

A chicken and weasel eat side by side.

And a song birds sings with an eagle.

All without fear of death from the other.

 

Where one can dive into a clear sea, and study the wonders of aquatic life.

Where one can swim with dolphins.

Hitch a ride on a great white shark.

Race with a killer whale.

Surf with a walrus.

And the wonders of the deep do not flee in fear.

Times seems almost to stand still as you look down on the rolling hills, trees, and mirror lakes from a perch on a grass covered mountain.

The wind teasing your hair.

Playfully tickling the back of the neck.

Your eyes barely able to believe the sight before you is real as you gasp at the realm of color below and above.

 

Music soft and gentle greets your ears relaxing ones muscles into peaceful rest.

Bringing comfort to the soul,

Thoughts of joy to the hears,

And inspiration of the purest form to the mind.

 

But I am not able to escape these dreary walls.

To leave behind the foul language, thoughts and deeds which plague the world.

Or flee the hatred, mistrust, and heartbreak.

I am stuck.

Trapped in a dungeon of pain.

Captured by the sin that rules this world.

Dreaming of a life better than anything I have ever known.

Wondering if I will ever be able to see it.

 

Into the depths of my sorrow,

Into my deep pit of loneliness,

Into my rocky dungeon of fear,

And into my watery cavern of frustration a tender hand reaches towards me.

Beckoning me to grab hold.

 

Slowly I reach out my hand with nervous hesitation.

Lightly I grasp the hand.

Firmly it encloses my hands, and begins to pull me up out of the misery.

Bringing me towards a wondrous light.

My grasp having been superficial causes me to slip loose.

I fall back into this wold of misery even further than before.

Again the hand appears beckoning me to grab hold.

This time I grab hold more firmly.

I am pulled a little higher.

My grasp still to light and uncertain if fall back again.

 

Again and again the hand beckons to me.

Each time my grasp becomes a little firmer and more certain.

Slowly my faith in the out reached hand grows.

Slowly I am pulled out of the mire.

At times my faith fails me,

My grasp loosens,

And I fall back.

Sometimes a short distance, and at times worse than before.

 

But the hand is patient.

Forgiving my lack of faith.

Beckoning me to try again.

Understanding my slowness of faith.

Willingly bringing me to the land of my dreams.

 

The hand of God patiently leads.

Bringing me closer to heaven.

But more importantly nearer to him

Copyright 2016