Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Park (10/25/12)
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TITLE: Gray Park Days | Previous Challenge Entry
By Frankie Kemp
10/30/12 -
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Why do you linger over barren branches
and gray days
that are no longer fall but are also not yet blanketed
by cleansing covers of crystal snow?
Why does your soul wander in this place
of inertia and fog
when somewhere back there
in the whispers
dulled by the mists
are sunnier times—companions
of laughter and sunshine
and sweet green and vibrant bloom?
Write of the spring times in the park—
or of the thick summer days
when children linger past their bed times.
Write of frisbees and horseshoes and
Independence Days.
Write of hope and promise and the
smart and fancy days
we live.
Oh, I want to!
Oh, I want my words to be gorged
and dripping with refreshment . . .
But they would lie today.
Today is a gray park day—like so many others.
Today I grope and grasp to remember
what it is to laugh.
I know it is there, within my soul—
that park whose trees never shed their leaves.
I have been there before, and I know how to cling
tight to the vision of what will be
and not what is,
But today is still a gray park day—like so many others.
I am not alone.
A still, small voice whispers to me that
the gray park days are
the ones where decay
feeds the soil
and enriches tomorrows.
A still, small voice whispers to me that
the gray park days are not forever.
And I swallow the truth and sigh,
knowing some day soon I will write a different park.
He—He who is my hope
would not leave me like this.
He is my light and my song—
the author of spring.
He would not leave me like this—
without purpose.
He—He knows what it is to lie and wait
for a spring morning.
These gray park days
echo His story and remind me
of the Goodness of my God.
They cause me to hunger
for the giver of the Spring.
Thus, I can be grateful
grateful, even, for gray park days.
Grateful . . .that I do not walk the
pathways alone.
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