Cambridge-Chronicles
Awakened Christianity
This page is a forum for poetry.
Unless stated otherwise, they are all by L.M. Homan
Living in the Light of Life
In the Light of Life I have meaning.
It illuminates my way.
Like a sundial my soul sits in its presence, waiting for direction, feeling the warmth and peace.
The darkness in my soul hides in small corners as the Light of Life fills me.
I can learn and see and be seen.
I have no need to cower away.
I am filled to the full and want for nothing.
The day dream
I stood still and day-dreamed for far too long...
And when I awoke time had gone...
Chasing, I tried to fill in the gaps
of things I would have done If time hadn’t lapsed.
It didn’t seem to matter how much I rushed and worried
Time paced methodically whilst I raced and scurried.
My hourglass of time seems to ever run dry
Whilst time, her own master, just drifts on by.
Realising that I would never ‘catch her up’
I took a long drink of patience from her everlasting cup.
She taught me then what I always knew
To make the most of every minute - by resting too.
Valuing time in the restfulness of calm
I take time and we walk arm in arm.
Success
Success like a frenzied horseman came and carried me away
hurled me lifelong into a brighter day.
With enormous ease, the money piled up,
blessing galore from an overflowing cup.
Reality melted in the light of the ease,
coming and going, just as I please.
Surely I have made it? This is the life?
but love and care and laughter can’t be bought with a price.
In your success remember your roots
Don't go lairy- get too big for your boots!
The hand that ‘giveth’ ‘taketh’ so don't rely
on ease and wealth and pleasure to help you get by
True riches come from giving with an abundant heart
you are just a piece of the puzzle playing your part.
Success does not define you, it’s an illusion for sure
you are much more precious, you are worth much more.
So hold this liar carefully lest it burn and kill, strip you from your friends
and create unimaginable ill.
Be yourself always, whether rich or poor, then friends and loved ones will always be at your door.
The Fen Land
Soggy boggy fertile, dark black soil
setting, spraying, harvest, the farmer's toil
Ditches, drainage, reeds, rivers wide and slow
Tractors pace the traffic, it takes time to grow
Drilling, lifting, loading, lorries with full load
cracked tarmac mud strewn all across the road
History and farming meet anew
Ship of the fens, a majestic view
Three miles or more, see the distant town
far across the patchwork of cream, green and brown
Sunsets wider than a cinemas scene
Technicolor palate blue, black, yellow, green
Pitch dark nights, stars in monochrome
warm country cottage, a fire, this is home.
Only after the last cow has died from a genetically engineered
malfunction,
Only after the last tree has died from acid rain,
Only after the seas and rivers are poisoned with oil and all the fish die....
Only then will politicians and corporate shareholders realise that you cannot eat money!
Tasha, Deryn and Linda's adaptation of the Cree Indian Prophesy.
