Tag Archives: Motivation

Oh the Beauty of the Sky

Oh the beauty of the sky
This world and this time
In it is felt the pulse
A loving rhyme

Once I was blind
Could see no truth
Held a snake
Felt its poison tooth

How sad it is
The pain that is felt
When light hits your eye
And leaves a welt

I felt the ground
And the covering sky
Felt the falling rain
And gasped a sigh

To die I thought
Would be good
I would leave tonight
If I could

The sight I beheld
Wasn’t grand or pretty
Until his hand
Was offered to me

You could almost say
That line in the sand
He far crossed
He walked my land

It was as if I died
Saw visions of stars
And blood and life,
And then those scars

How wonderful the sight
The view I did see
Of blood that flowed
And it covered me.

Oh the love in a touch
The warmth in a breath
The joy in a kiss
The beating of a chest

Beauty in pain
Love in a sigh
It wasn’t felt for me
Tell to me He died

by Ryan Wormald

Lost Fools

What do you seek or wish to find?
Is it in a week, or about time?
Do you want more or less,
And would it slant the press?

Tomorrow would leave you blind,
If you only could keep your mind.
The cake in your hand has been lost and is gone,
And your stomach has been empty for far too long.

Honesty will only discover what you seek,
And It will have to last you more than a week.
The hour is short, and will likely be gone,
And you might be left, alone thinking to long.

Raining Dreams

Down a dreary window sill
Runs a drop of icy chill.
Inside sits a boy of dreams
Captive to his thoughts and themes.

Outside a swallow sends out a call,
It’s the weary time of fall.
On the swing a child plays,
Dreaming of his latter days.

Dreams and their captive themes
Hold many like wooden beams:
Days pass like living plays
Still dreams hold up our maze.

Chill is life without window sills
For they shelter us from what’s real.
Call to me dream sparrow or I fall,
Fall from my goal and it all.

by Ryan Wormald

A Coward Not

A coward I cannot be,
Not when so much fear inhabits me.
Fear that feeds and fuels a weary soul.
A fear that drives away the cold.

Questions unanswered in the dark.
Perhaps now I won’t be torn apart,
Blood curtailing fear,
Thrusts me here.

A force likened to none,
To strong with which to contend
Life to my bones,
And purpose to my feet.

Without it now I would die,
There would be no reason for me to try.
Try to live without it now,
And I will surely bow.

Bow a loser’s knee,
To life’s humility.
Without true fear,
I have nothing to hold dear.

Thought to be lost here and now,
Forever I bow to fear’s life here; now.

by Ryan Wormald