Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Poetry .. Life is in the living

Life is in the living

We spend a lifetime
Trying to pack a life
Into a life span
Only to find it does not fit

Our deeds always seem
To spill out and over
What we finish lives on
What we start continues
We never finish

If we were to look back
As we come to an end of a life
We would see life
Still rushing to catch us

For all of our care and planning
We are rarely ready
For the day
For the weekend
For the holidays
For the end of days

Herein is the end of it
We do what we can
While we can
And pray it is enough

We make the preparations we can
And wait for life to blindside us
At the last moment
With small details
Or the ‘big picture’
That we seemed to have missed

Still, at the end of the day
We look back
We thank the creator
For the love we have felt
For the tears we have cried
For the battles we have fought

We try to finish one more thing
Before we close our eyes
As if it might give us a head start
For the work of tomorrow

So ..
run ..
fight ..
strive ..
contend ..

Take whatever measure of success
You may find
Relish in it,
For it is fleeting at best

Life is in the living
Not in the obtaining
Life is in the trying
More so than in the achieving
Life is in the running
Everyone cannot be winning

Life is in the living

Live it

Ron Simpson, Jr.
December 29, 2009

Sunday, December 27, 2009

Monday, December 14, 2009

more poetry

Just something that fell out of my brain ..

Lies and Truth: The Life We Live

The words danced neatly,
Slipping through the ranks of soldiers
Polished gleaming white,
Giving no hint
To the faint scent
Of the rancid decay,
Gathered from the backside of the line

Lies are lined
Like a gently innocent picket fence
Surrounding the nearly perfectly manicured
Blades of deceit,
Trimmed exquisitely
To the predetermined length of societal acceptance

How long before the lies we tell
Become the life we live
Or the life we live
Becomes the lies we tell?

If then,
The lies become the life we live,
Are they still lies
Or simply the fa├žade
Of whom we wish to be?

Is this the mask we wear
Until the time we grow beneath
To mimic the features of what we wish to be?
Have we then become
That which we aspired to be
Or are we merely the skin of truth
Stuffed with proper lies?

Have the lies we tell others
Become the lies we tell ourselves?
Harsh truths
Become the revealing x-rays
Of our true selves.

We shudder
At the mention of it
We scurry away
From its presence
Like scared mice
At the sounds
Of its approaching footfalls

We peer at the truth
From our cloistered hiding spots,
Hoping it will wander away
Before noticing our smell

Too late
For too long
Have we lingered
We are captured
In truths unrelenting stare
We can feel its unwavering gaze
Stripping away the layers
Of our years
Of practiced deceit

It works without favor
No malice of heart
It carries no grudge
It is only what it is
The truth

When truth has finished
Its unconscious task
We stand revealed
In our stark nakedness
Stripped of our excuse
Devoid of our pretext
Alone in our own self

Then we can see
Then we can know
Who we are
And where we need to be
When we stand
Sans lies
Sans deceit
Sans excuse

From the humbled perch
Of undefiled truth
Can we begin to build
The building of who we are
Founded on the foundation
Of revelation
Of truth
Of what we are

We are
All of us
Cut from the cloth
For flawed humanity
Of this tapestry
We are all a part

In this
We all belong
We all fit
In the stark revealed truth
Humanity to humanity
Flaw to flaw
Truth to truth

It was only the lies
That separated us
That created the barriers
That forced the division
Until now

We are now joined
In lies and truth
In the life we live

Ron Simpson, Jr.
December 14, 2009

Sunday, December 06, 2009


Yes, it has been a while since I posted, but I wrote this for a friend and thought I would share it. It is based on the Bible story of Jarius, a ruler in the synagogue, that came to Jesus when his daughter was dying ..

The hardest words

I thought I knew the hardest words

When they told me my daughter was ill

The doctors did all they could, but to no avail

She grew weaker every day

I prepared my heart for the hard words

I never wanted to hear

Words surrounded me

Words of comfort and words of dread

Every new test brought words of optimism

Every new result brought the words of despair

The words came and went

But the hardest words still loomed ahead

I heard of a healer passing through the town

He and His followers were crowded by a mob

I heard He held healing in His very touch

I can’t recall now whether it was faith or desperation

That drove me down the streets

Drawing closer to the crowd and the healer in the midst

Words surrounded me as I drew close

The crying of the mob seeking his favor and attention

Everyone was trying to get closer

Just to touch even the hem of the garment He wore

Then suddenly I was standing before Him

And saying what I thought were the hardest words

“Lord, Come and heal my daughter

She lies at the point of death”

Even as I spoke the words

They tore through my heart

To speak them aloud seemed to give them strength

And they became the hardest words I had ever said

He healed others as we traveled

Time seemed to drag as we moved

Then came the messenger I never wanted to see

With the words I never wanted to hear

He held them in his mouth waiting to spill

The hardest words, “Your daughter is dead”

I never thought there could be harder words

Until Jesus turned to me and spoke

“Be not afraid, only believe”

For months, possibly even years

I watched my daughter slowly die

Every doctor’s words were harder than the last

As one by one they extinguished each word of hope

And every hard word became a brick

That built a wall around my heart

Now, the messenger, with the final brick

Brought me the words I thought I feared the most

I had built this dread in the silent place in my heart

Where the words dared not be whispered

Where, there way down deep, still lived a small hope

That was broken irrevocably by these few words

How can He say to me now

“Only believe”

For years I have believed

And watched that belief stripped one layer at a time

For months, through the endless procession of physicians

Each taking a piece of my belief as they shook their heads

And now that the final piece has been swept away

He tells me to ‘only believe’

These are the hardest words I have ever heard

“Only believe”

Today, as I watch my daughter playing with her friends

As I watch her comb and braid her doll’s hair

As I see her giggle at the glance of some boy in her direction

The hardest words still echo inside me

“Only believe”

I give these words to you, today

In the middle of your trial

In the midst of your despair

Surrounded by all the other words

That seek to rob you of your faith

“Only believe”

Hold on to the hardest words

“Only believe”

Ron Simpson, Jr.

December 6, 2009