Lately I’ve read comments on Facebook that are very different from the last Presidential election. You remember that one. Where a liberal African American president sought another four years after driving the GOP establishment mad as hatters over the Affordable Care Act. It was contentious to say the least. But most of the opinions seemed to be either for or against another Obama presidency.

This time around what I read about is anxiety, rallying the troops to maintain party unity and most of all fear. Many Americans are afraid that the land envisioned by our forefathers is circling the drain. Who will represent us? Will they be sane, fair, and non-combative, have a heart for America and a genuine love for God? 

I wrote a free verse poem ten years ago, shortly after my father and his entire remaining family died within six months, leaving only me. The last Close. It was simply too much. I felt like my world was spinning off its axis. I was so grief stricken and confused that I forgot that my Creator was willing and able to take the reins and give me a chance to heal.

It’s a reminder that in the midst of all the din that deafens us, there’s a loving voice from within who gets it, who understands and has a plan.  

The World We Know

The world that we know,

imperfect and flawed,

is not a place for the weak.

With each gust of wind,

with each bomb that’s dropped,

with each hungry child who cries out for food,

it is churned,

and enraged,

immersed in despair.

Yet in spite of clichés,

dry repartee,

a heightened conviction

of a planet gone mad,

Comes the sunrise,

the sunset,

a rainbow’s bright hues,

woven through mist

by a Heavenly Hand…

An assurance, a promise 

not all will be angst,

not all will fall short,

not all will end in heartache, regret…

That the world we know

imperfect, and flawed

still belongs

to the Master of Love…

Blessings to you and yours,

Michelle