Poetry
The Trust Fund
The polished lady that sat by the window
Looked out, peering
She sobbed quietly,
Even quite uncontrollably
As she began contemplating
The Words of the Counsellor
He too sat in the room
A bizarre mixture of the invisible and tangible
Uncomfortably still
Assuredly He was invited
He was there at the lady’s will
She wondered how and why life had happened this way
She was to be honest, broken, affected and blue
Her pale skin told a story of a bruised reed
Her memoirs, her understanding, her intellect...
She pulled everything apart
Still it gave her no clue
She had tried every thing to take away the pain
The relentless pain of one so true
Nothing made any sense
She loved the sun and seeked to escape
The constant shades of grey horizons
The drear of her plain meant the constant threat of rain
And in her fragile, delicate state of mind
It was enough to drive her perpetually insane.
The Counsellor prompted her to remember a time
Before she ascended in her nominal calling
A time when she studied ‘how to be’
Before her human nature gave way to marital falling
It was a slow ebbing away of her rose petal dream
Her single minded belief in unity
Unity of when two become one
It was her lifelong dream, it was her personal goal
Unity of mind, spirit, body and soul
It was Fusion, you see she believed in Fusion
She new Adam and Eve could move mountains
Yet this synthesis eluded her life constantly
Why could she never get on?
Even at the helm of her day to day
The subjects lived in fear of her realm
She had risen to heights because God was by her side
and she hadn’t recognised
The redundant nature of her lot
He kept her all the time in the palm of his hand
HE declared 'This is MY chosen - of this world she is not'
Oddly the more blind she was to her spirits condition
She was promoted from vocation, to purpose, to mission
God never lost His confidence in her
She was given much, she had much to bear
And though the responsibility did not match her emotion
She knew she was called and whatever may
She knew she had been purposed from the beginning of creation
She would think to herself and try and reason
About this and that and this
It was so difficult and her head would spin
But she didnt want to be amiss
The calling was a strange mixture of
The easily identifiable
And the undeniable supernatural
On the one hand their was redundancy,
A void of measures
On the other speed faster than locomotion
Fast lane isn’t all that it promises to be
Its highways are littered with those who gave up
'many are called but few are chosen'
Those who never make failed to see heavens backup
To be chosen is to know heavens seven!
But even for the chosen life has to be lived and experienced
and So this is whats called the Good fight of faith
It is Gods was of building a fence
It wasn’t that she wanted to be alone
But she couldn’t find any other way
It seemed as though all she ever believed
Was not true though she knew God forever was
Who knew faced with outward appearance
What was on the inside?
Who knew what was apparent
Who knew what was honest,
Who knew what was true?
She couldn’t differentiate the good from the bad
So many had taken her placid tokens
And raced over her innocent view
She was of course intelligent enough to understand
That utopia shall never be
But it was the sheer brutal force of human ambition
That gave her sleepless nights
That troubled her thoughts
That stirred her spirit
And led her back towards ubiquitous divinity
She knew she had to acknowledge
Her own dread
To be able to embrace one sent who was genuine
She had to face her inner sanctum
And pull out that which she knew would be strengthening
It would be tough because she would have to go through
To come out better on the other side
But it was a journey she was willing to take
The truth be told, she had no more pride.
As she thought about where God would lead her
She reminisced to remember no more
Her parochial sense of humour
Without flattery or sophistication
She would laugh to scorn
Ridicule even
A word that had caused her so much misery
T.R.U.S.T - it grated to her to even spell it out
That one Word she totally abhorred
To her life, her lot, it bore no resemblance
It was akin to every possible human doubt
She had created her own acronym
And she would make her self laugh
Trust she would say ‘ha tell me another, here’s mine’
Today Rely on Urself or Somebody will Trample U
It was sad and pathetic and she knew
The time had come that she had to go to the Father
In Spirit and in truth
She sought His counsel
She seeked a panacea,
She sought the ultimate answer
She had not lost her senses
She knew as a matter of fact that
Only one man could give her what she needed
The fact of the matter was that
Only one man could make her brand new
As a child she remembers putting her trust in God
She never doubted his Word,
Not one jot or iota
So she told him everything, all she could remember
She sat at the window still staring
The Counsellor was still there,
He was there to comfort her
The panacea…
She told the father everything
His unconditional love began to provide the answer
‘I never stopped loving you’ He said
‘Even when I saw your innocence being taken away
Even when I saw that you naivety put you in harms way
I never stopped loving you’ He said
‘When you were clueless I loved you even more
When you were too clever I was clever even more
And I remembered’ he said, ‘that trust you had in me as a child
And the many times along life’s road
When you squeezed your eyes and simply called me ‘Father’
I remember, you see, I never forget
And though your lack of trust in many ways is justified
I don’t want you to live this way anymore
I am your Father and Jesus your saviour
Behold I stand at the door.
Every connection that I make for you
Will be easy, it will not burden, it’ll be light
Take my yoke now child
Learn of me
Your Fathers in control
And it is a Father Delight’
With that the polished lady, sat up and lifted her shoulders
She had found the panacea only it was not so
What it was, was as is to follow;
It was the Way for one who was lost and now found
It was the Truth for one who had been bound
And it was the life for one who had fallen down
It was and is and is to come…
The counsellor reminded her gently
That her trust had all along been in a Fund
And this appointment had been written in the heavens
Her meeting with the counsellor
It was the day her Fund became mature
It was the day she knew finally,
That she could begin to trust again, for sure
So her lack of trust was actually an inverted trust fund
She had learned that facts indeed can belie the truth
She knew now that TRUST was to be her major in life
They say that all truth is parallel
And so maybe just maybe she chuckled to herself
As she walked out of the counsellors room
Now that I have inherited my spiritual trust fund
Then, maybe just maybe….
She chuckled again
You just never can tell
I am in it to win it she said,
I’m going for the prize of the high calling
And with God I know that I know all things are possible
I’m gonna win, I’m gonna win, I’m gonna win!
She shrieked with delight...
She was assured in The God of her Salvation
The God of Light
The Counsellor too chuckled in silence
Yep, he said, another happy client
And I know she won’t seek to only come and withdraw
For she has a long history of deposits Galore
The Trust Fund – Gods miracle that what we reap is truly what we have sowed.
Written by Sandra Cowan, Copyright 2008. Not to be reproduced without the authors consent.
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