cold bright morning
though moments with the Father
warming the soul
melt Icy heart
with his peace and care
never apart from him
anthony forrest
Tag: Poem
Heavy hung branches tremble and shake
Thawing sunshine beams down to awaken
The trees from icy sleep
The old shed’s corner drips and drips
Newborn warmth builds as winter’s grip slips
Away and away
Unremembered songs of birds returned
From Southern concerns
And stays
Door soon closes to waiting, waiting
Cold days over now—ready for Spring
To begin
anthony forrest
a collection of brief poetry, part 1
Ueno Park
My feet from under cover
Step with a new day
In the warmth of sunrise hope
Seeking a sunset peace
anthony forrest
Throw Coins
(story below)
Men throw coins seeking grace finding none.
With clapped hands they bow, but not to the Son.
In Danse Macabre their culture sways till finally in death’s arms they lay.
Have they hope in this dire state?
Where will they find grace?
Beyond a doubt, one of my favorite places to visit is Japan. Smiling faces, terrific food, ancient structures, mystical remnants of forgotten wars, and friendly people make up a culture that warms my heart each time I go.
Most of the people in Japan observe Shinto, a religion made up of mysticism, spirit worship, and ancestral longing. On the outside, Shinto is beautiful. I travel to Shinto shrines every day I am in Japan. Towering pagodas and looming archways beckon followers to bow, clap, buy luck, and recite prayers.
Albeit beautiful, every time I visit a shrine, I walk away with a sense of emptiness. All the ritual practices and rigid rules leave the worshiper fallen short of perfection. In a sense, Shinto is puzzle missing pieces. It is up to man to maintain a connection to their ancestral past. It is up to man to live up to expectation of Shinto. It is all up to man. Hopeless, graceless, and endless. If man is the end all be all, count me out.
The God of the Bible gives hope, grace. Second chances and forgiveness abound. It doesn’t come from me. And that’s a good thing.
anthony forrest