And The Greatest
Until your tears have fermented
they are only water,
easily mistaken for raindrops.
But should you endure the season
your grief might turn to wine,
your sadness might become
the spirit others will travel
far and wide to taste.
Know that the season is often long,
the weather harsh and inappropriate.
There are no guarantees.
Only hope, wait, and see remain.
And the greatest of these is hope.
And the greatest of these is hope.
Dear Madelaine,
You mentioned when I saw you that you are working at enjoying poetry. I have appreciated getting poems in my inbox from this guy. I often find his view of the world to be insightful, sometimes funny, and often a refreshing view of faith. I don’t know if it will resonate with you, but I thought I would send it along.
How are you? Would love to chat before we fall in to the FISH schedule of the weekend.
Love you, Mom
UGH.
I know your name is not Madelaine, and I am most certainly not your mother. My apologies. I am trying to forward your poem to my daughter and hit reply instead of forward. Again, my apologies.
Diane Wheeler
No apologies needed, Diane. My mother often tries to forward things to me and hits reply instead, so I found this endearing. Thank you.
Endearing indeed… oh, how this made me smile. Made me miss my mom, something awful.
Smile. We all do it.
Beautiful!
Thank you, Annie B.
I sent the poem to my sister today and she sent back that it caught what I had gone through to have my present life and my true love, at an age most people don’t think such things happen. Thank you.
My grief usually turns to whine.
John your post, especially the last line, brings us to the most important thing in our lives…HOPE.
I am reminded of a song, the lyrics of which are:
“HOPE rises with the dawn,
Rises in the heart, shinning on the soul,
Forcing back the dark.
HOPE gives our spirit peace,
Peace breaks forth in praise, for the promised King,
For His gift of grace, God’s most Holy One.”
“Christ in you, the HOPE of Glory.”
This one… thank you, John. God’s perfect timing.
Yes, it is perfect timing. God speaks through you, and I am so glad…and hopeful.
Reading this as I draw the next ragged breath in my own long season. Inhaling the fragrance of this gift of hope. Thank you.
You also write beautifully. Keep inhaling the hope.
Poetry speaks to the heart like nothing else. Thank you for those amazing words that go down deep.
For those of us who are enduring the season at this moment this poem is more than beautiful – it’s an uncovering of something dear, nearly buried.