Tuesday, May 13, 2014

When My Mother Prayed (Poem for Mother's Day)

I remember from my earliest day,
The voice of my mother  when she would pray,
She would address her heavenly father,
Praying for me, my sisters, and brothers,
Her voice seemed to quiver just a little,
Fragile and worn from years in the battle,
She would pour her soul out like a river,
That’s when we’d hear the gates of hell quiver.
My mother prayed.
Devils were stayed.

Just how I survived my 23rd year
Still remains a mystery to me.
What stands between love and fornication
Heaven or hell as a son’s destination,
The patterns of causes are far too complex,
To find the true cause of  all fatal wrecks.
But from the beginning God foreordained,
The faith, fervency, and love unfeigned.
My mother prayed,
Ten thousand prayers.

As the years of my life go rolling by,
I find the temptations just multiply,
The path more narrow,  the ditches are wide,
The stakes far higher, the demons more wise,
The arrows come faster, the horses run wild,
Far greater men have never survived.
Each time I emerge from another valley,
I know for certain that two rode with me.
My mother’s prayers.
And my Lord was there.

When God’s armies are routed, the philistines rule,
The devil takes over with tyranny cruel...
God’s kingdom on a thin thread hangs,
Sitting between the wolves’ slavering fangs,
Then, a mother’s prayers, appear a mere token,
But, what? The bows of the mighty are broken,
The tides are turned when her horn is raised,
The one thing the enemy fails to calculate,
One mother’s tears.
One mother’s prayers.

- Kevin Swanson, 2014

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