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Some days there won't be a song in your heart. Sing anyway. ~Emory Austin

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Tuesday, January 1, 2019

My First Poem For The New Year 2019

Adrift the Rising Sea and Fading Suns

Distant thunder rumbles through a starless night.
Lightning flashes a frightening source of daylight.

Nabu shudders then draws her covering over head.
Dismal rain pounds a weary world and buries its dead;
A world astray
The end of days
They were alone,
The Ark a home …

Nabu and seven remain
Counting the hours
From dusk to day
Adrift a rising sea
And fading sun

Another morning flickers on
By lamps of burning oil;
Candles burn bright
In halls of fright
On haunting decks of prayer

A rooster crows below
The raven flutters its tired wings
And a dove cooes softly as she sings
“An olive branch for me.”

The creaks and sighs of gopher wood
The murmurs of pitch-stained life
She covers her ears with tattered shawl
Leaving the past behind

The wind it howls
Like wounded wolf
Fighting a bitter end  
Adrift the rising sea alone
Becoming the ghosts death sends
New shadows cheer
As thunder rears
Wrestling the frenzied waves
The ark cuts through
Defy the brew
Of violent waterways

Nabu she sings a peaceful song
Her heart it mourns for friends now gone

The sun of the morn’
Is a light forlorn

We are eight souls adrift
In a watery sift

Filled with tears
And fears
Of the brave too late,
And beloved unbelievers

Once in a while her thoughts they drown
With the memories of family and friends,
For each so wrong had turned their songs,
And labeled her not well,
So horribly deceived they said
Her mind so sad and poorly dressed
She grieves for them
And ponders when … or why
God ever chose her


The haunting wind wails with the dead.
Nabu keeps God in heart and head;
His mercies they are new each day.
Though morning came with daunting fame
Afloat a world so lifeless,
Adrift a rising sea,
Under a fading sun.

Then skies turn hues of brightest blues
The fading sun shines oh so true
A raven spreads his wings
And flies to worlds unknown

The dove she cooes and flutters by
She knows the rain repents and why
“At last a day,” the dove did say
“An olive branch for me.”

Adrift a rising sea no more
Unfading sun forevermore
How will they fare
How will they care
For a world where no one roams?
(Copyright, 2019 by Deborah L. Alten)


Happy New Year


2 comments:

  1. You are becoming quite the poet! Noah is surely proud of this take on his-story.

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  2. Awww, thanks. I like that ... his-story. Yes, I'm having a blast with this genre. Much to learn but I'm liking the journey. Thanks Julie.

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