by Lois McQuinn
There is a place where silence screams….
where darkness rules and hearts are raw and broken…
a place of quietness ….
one would have hoped…
but hope in that death is not to be shared…
not while anger still smoulders…
and grief… calls for more wounds.
Death is the captor …
his laughter so mocking…
the only true foe…
it’s his voice we hear, the banshees grim call…
it’s his voice that shatters and invades us all.
The silence of pain speaks only of loss…
a “wordlessness” unnatural quiet breeds what can never truly be spoken… the sorrow of aloneness is now to be endured.
Aloneness born of another’s grief with pain that festers and bleeds in the ugliness of a false acceptance…
but no ….
truth…
of rage.
I couldn’t rescue…
I couldn’t save…
You molded that life and created that shame…
The voice of that death begins with a whisper…
It is in that smothering darkness of grief it births a condemning thought…
it accuses and tortures those caught as it wills …
It grows ever louder …
it grows ever bolder…
Paralyzing the soul that death …
that old horror…
that deep dark silence…
again now roars to speak…
its voice …
like the nails on a child’s board …
now screeching the length…
a shiver …
then still.
The spirit recoils, trying to hide from the accuser but it creates only darkness shadowing the mind in the mist of its own confusion and even greater pain.
The soul has no rest, the silence is deafening…
the silence is screaming…
its voice never ending…
condemning…
unclean.
Why weren’t you there, why didn’t you hear…
how can you believe the lies that were told…
how can you bear the words so corrupt…
how can you bear that lies of that mode….
that silence so filled with anger….
that silence so destructive.
Yet …
deep within …
another voice speaks…
a voice so clear …
remembrance now comes.
A voice always constant…
a voice always there…
a voice wrapped beneath the layers of grief.
Peel back the layers…
peel back the grief.
Now listen … with hope.
Let the voice speak…
let it come in again…
that voice so familiar …
the voice filled with love…
the voice from the long and not so distance past …
the voice of the future…
long to be heard…
the voice filled with truth and with rare precious jewels…
the voice of great comfort and ultimate care…
the voice of your Father.
Can you not hear it?
Just please… be still.
His laughter rang loud, his joy so contagious…
he speaks now from that place …
the place of the aged.
Remember the life that has gone on before…
Remember the joy that you once all had, the smiles … the laughter… the jokes and much more.
Remember the love that you all once shared …. it will bring back the quietness and the family as one.
Remember the place where the waters flowed… where the rocks were smooth and caves were cool.
Remember the feet on the ocean floor, the beauty of pillars… high rocks on a distant eastern shore.
Remember the comfort of a day by the sea, the cry of gulls and the resting of the boats …. waiting … just waiting in that deep, dark mud.
Resting and waiting till the tides were called…called to come in and lift them once more.
Oh …. now …there is a thought …. a thought of great joy… to rise up above… to ride the dark waves…
Remember the “window” the long drive’s prize… the cold of the ice, so flavoured and creamy… of mint and of chocolate on a warm sabbath day.
Remember the wall, along that long drive…. trees upon trees. so tall and enduring, going by…so fast on that long journey… going by … the tens and hundreds it’s true… but totally ignore in all of their glory due to your nose in a book’s Christian story and view.
Depending the day that led to that place, can you see it once more in the memory of time…
the shadows of mist and shades of deep grey…
or the brightest of blues, from the clouds to the sea… with the sparkles of light like jewels on the waves.
The colours so blended, so blurred through the speed …
led to that special place ….
the place where we played…
that unique special place spoke to us all…
the place that called us to come…
on those warm summer days.
Escape from the heat…
escape from toil…
escape to a place of deep love and enduring.
Continue it called, as it does still today…
to place of great wholeness…
a place of new play.
Remember it now … remember and live… there is a tomorrow… there is a great gift.
Remember now… how the mountain descends…. the speed must let up… its now slowing again… go deeper and deeper… to a place of contentment … go deeper and deeper…. approaching the sea.
Remember the smells … how salty and earthy, a cool sweetness yearned for… in the ferns gently growing.
The shadows now deepened… there that silence gained… a silence of beauty …. a silence with no pain.
There that silence, so familiar and pure…
that silence of family so lasting and true…
there that silence made peace for us all…
there that silence joined us together as one.
Companionable in silence, no voices were necessary…
the quietness became all that was needed.
For that silence was sweet and if it was broken… it was broken for joy … to continue the union.
If it was broken … it was broken by prayer … prayer that we spoke and spoke it together or broken by praise… joyfully singing as one…
Can you hear it echo?
Can you hear it my son?
Daughter does it speak… of joy and of fun, of laughter forgotten when we were all so young?
Can you hear it now as he sings in the hereafter the verses of the song he would live in the future?
Everyday I’m camping in the Land of Canaan… and with rapture I survey…it wondrous beauty grand… Glory, Hallelujah … I’ve found the land promise I’m camping … I’m camping… in Canaans happy land… oh .. everyday I’m camping…
There in that time …
frozen in the sweetest of memories….
a place to begin…
a place to heal the silence of peace …
the joy of the circle…
the voices near perfect …
almost complete…
One of us each and just two of you, of Mother and Father, Sister and Brother.
Disciples of truth, learners of gold, nuggets from heaven was what we were told…
Hold to the Father, love the pure Word…
care for the hurting, minister the cross, take up kindness… it won’t ever be lost.
Words to live by… and words yet to die by.
But… fast held the reigns …. the hands moved so swiftly … to times of deep sorrow and times of great rift.
Healing begins… but who now will let it… the deep wounded spirits the raw aching souls … our pain filled emotions …. death left unspoken.
The love was blocked… a shadow moved in, the great pain increased… we must begin again.
No condemnation here, there’s none to forgive… just raw pain inflicted… through the silence of grief.
The sharpness was blinding… the words echo still … they cut through the strings… they cut through the will… separated now… till one and two grieve … the grief of isolation… as no one really sees.
Return, oh the warmth, return, oh the sun, return waves of heat.. to remember whats gone.
There is a voice of death that continues to bind…its voice… its torments… increase.
It’s always the victim… it always demands an answer… demanding more pain…
Is it never yet ended?
I want you to hurt… I want you to pay…. I want you to hurt for the sorrow and pain.
You were there then, you aren’t there now, the grief demands vengeance… I’ll give you no morrow.
Grief may rage …. and death may cry out… but the precious true voice is now heard above…
Have you not heard…
have you forgotten …
remember it now…
the gold is now purified and speaks to us still, the nuggets are there…
remember them now.
Christ is the victor… death has no sting… its only a moment… till we meet again.
Let not your grief… let not that dark death… destroy that deep love… that was there at the first.
No…
Look to the east… look to the sky… the trumpet will echo throughout the world wide… for there you will find me … those loved by my side.
For, yes… I am coming … returning as I promised… the victory will come… just wait for the moment… with joy and with hope… the love will not fail you … the love will be healed… of this you are promised, of this have I spoken.
Rev. 21:4 And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.
Views: 48