Whispers Of Hope

Here is a collection of poems and stories that have endings that give hope!

Entwined Lives

As I placed the lid on my garbage can, Rudy shot past me like a lightening bolt!
I shook my head, with his mother so ill, how would she ever tame such a wild colt?

I went back inside and finished getting ready to go visit my own deceased mother.
Tending to her grave was a routine of mine among others.

After my monthly visit as I walked back to my car, I saw a beautiful man standing between two graves.
Within his right hand he cupped something precious, as though it were being saved.

Something drew me to him and I don't know why?
But a deep sorrow over came me and I really wanted to cry.

He looked up at me and nodded though tears streamed down both his cheeks.
Not wanting to stay, something told me to and then he began to speak.

"You see these two people," as he pointed toward the dirt covered mounds.
I shook my head ,yes, and knew in my heart he was about to tell me something truly profound.

"They are both gone from the earth forever more,
but because of a lack of compassion and willingness, other souls will suffer and many lives will be poor."

Then he opened up his hand and there sat a ladybug.
"One of God's tiny creations, such a small thing.

But ,oh, the power of it and the hope it could bring."

I was overwhelmed, I thought I recognized this man's face.
Being in my mid-seventies, my memory lacked the grace.

He seemed to have a glow about him and a holy peace.
But I was troubled by those beautiful, sad eyes and tear stained cheeks.

"This woman," as he pointed to one resting place, "had been kind, used her gifts and lived her life mostly full sail.
Though the world saw her as important, in her pride, God's perfect plan is what she failed."

"And the other is a child, never destined to become a man.
But, oh, the power and healing in him, if only he were guided to fulfill God's perfect plan."

The man's words filled my heart with dread as he spoke of things the woman did and I became afraid.
His sorrow was so pure and holy for the two souls, who at his feet laid.

Sir, tell me what I really can do, my heart longed to say.
As if reading my thoughts, he answered in a most peculiar way.

"This tiny creature shall inspire the child to desire to write.
And if this child is guided, his words will have great might.
He will grow in wisdom and write an award winning poem for his ill mother.
Then it shall be read, a cure of goodness will be given because the poem will inspire another."

I was so startled I gasped, how did this man know I was a writer?
I sat up and looked about me, realizing from my bedroom window, the sky was much brighter.

Was it just a dream? I prayed for an answer, for a sign.
What did it all mean? And would I be given the time?

Though Rudy was eight and worried my garden flowers with his badly aimed basketball.
I never really spent time with my small neighbor. I really didn't know him at all.

So today I decided rather then scold him for his careless aim,
I would try to develop an acquaintanceship and learn more about him than just his name.

With sheepish eyes, Rudy, peered over the fence as I opened the gate for him and tried to hand him back his ball.
But instead of grabbing it with both hands, he didn't take it at all.

"Rudy," I said, "would you like a drink of lemonade?"
He began to smile and asked, "Could I borrow your pretty garden for some special friends I just made?"

Then he added, "My mom says you're a writer."
"Yes," I replied. "I have written romance novels all my life."
"I don't know about mushy stuff and things like that, but if I could write, it would be about Fred and his wife."

"Oh," I said.
"And just who is Fred?"

"Can I please put them in your garden?"
"Ok, but only if you promise to write that story about them," I said, as my heart felt a tug.
For sitting in Rudy's upturned palms were two tiny ladybugs!

Rudy's smile spread from ear to ear.
He promised he would and even read it aloud for me to hear.

Just then his dad called, "Rudy, time to go." 
He grabbed his basketball and off he ran.
I saw the lift pull his mom in her wheelchair, into their van.

Rudy's face was pressed against the van's back window as he waved goodbye to me.
Tears welled up and I started to cry for my heart knew he would never grow up, it was not meant to be.

And sadly I thought of his parents, how would they take such a loss. I whispered, "God why?"
Then a tiny miracle happened as if in reply.

My favorite garden statue was an angel bent down on one knee.
With an outstretched right hand as if pleading for the world to see.

I wiped the tears from my eyes with the corner of my sweater to make sure the angel was what it seemed.
For now I knew whom the face belonged to in my dream.

There in the angel's palm sat Fred and his wife.
Tiny creations from God who had so blessed my life.

In that moment, the angel helped me to see how our lives circle into a divine, entwined band.
For Rudy would write his poem and someday inspire another to help fulfill God's perfect plan.

Copyright 2005 Jacqueline Ann Piech


 

 

Fluid Harp

I am feeling overwhelmed and really need to cry,
while you pretend to comfort me and force a smile,
or at least try.

But you see the world from a different place,
thinking all pain and sorrow should be truly erased.
Just as the summer breeze softly blows,
the winter winds carry storms of ice and snow.

My heart is but a fluid harp upon which the Spirit plays.
Emotions become bowed strings that vibrate from living every day.

My tears are rising, my grief is all I can feel.
With his leaving, my pain and sorrow are very real.
Do not mock me,and say it will be alright.
My soul is empty now, and too weary to try and fight.
The same sun that shines brightly can scorch the farmer's fields.
It is in this conquering sadness, my joy must learn to yield.

My heart is but a fluid harp upon which the Spirit plays.
Emotions become bowed strings that vibrate from living every day.

Anger,sorrow,and fear are not the heart's foes.
For if the rain did not fall, how could the rose ever grow?
It is within the tears of grief,
that the soul yearns for Hope's belief!
As the heavens are a blessing from God above,
in rejection, the heart learns to value true love.

My heart is but a fluid harp upon which the Spirit plays.
Emotions become bowed strings that vibrate from living every day.

By Jacqueline Ann Piech
11/2004

 

 

Shine Against All Odds
Stage One: Umbrella Of Despair

As a child I learned too early I was considered unlovable.
Rumpled and always dirty, a burden not wanted or even needed.
No savior came when with my angel I pleaded as life got harder.
I was a nuisance to those who bore me and always in the way.
I learned to cling to anyone that gave me kindness as a child.
Only to discover they would not come and rescue me forever.
 Being screamed at almost daily or slapped or told how stupid I was angered my spirit.

I did rebel some and finally shouted out I never asked to be born.
I was reminded I was never asked for, at which more of my spirit died.
I learned to hide myself and try to cope with the war zone I was born into.
I was only a child so how could I learn to act right and be responsible.
The adults were worse then broken children, yet I was to act like an adult.
I hated when my anger or tears seeped out for it was scorned and made fun of.
The many chores I had helped make my studies and friendships secondary in my life.

Hints of my situation were made by a teacher and a few relatives.
No rescue came even after I tried suicide when I was fourteen.
The rain never stopped in my life so I sat under the umbrella.
Dressed up and waiting to be discovered and loved some day.


Stage Two: Gypsy Flight

Men found me attractive as a young adult so I learned to please them.
Believing their false promises of being loved and cherished forever.
I ignored the truth my heart spoke of, I despaired at having no real love.
Because I feared being all alone and hated for the very air I breathed,
I married despite not feeling secure with my choice for a lifetime mate.
With every life crisis he reminded me how disappointed he was in me.
 
When my son was born very ill, my mother could not cope with it and stayed away.  
God sent kind strangers and my grandmother to help me cope.
Later success came from sharing my talents with craft designing. 
But it never filled the void of a heart starving from lack of love,
I became a gypsy holding onto hope like it was a bird ready to fly away.

Stage Three: Heart's Light

As I grew older I was tortured by dreams from my childhood past.
Hope was vanishing in ever having true peace or true love in my life.
I chose to plunge into complete blackness but death never came.
Instead, Jesus embraced a ragged, dirty little girl then handed her to me.
I took her into my arms and wept deeply as I realized it was myself I held.
Knowing fully the pain I was in, Jesus touched my crumpled heart with Mercy.
Even though I was in despair, Jesus saved me by believing in my goodness.
 
He started to teach me how to forgive, to move forward beyond my wounds.
I now see my life as having real meaning and hope to be shared with others.

That we are all loved by the God who chose to create us with free will.
We can make a path of light or darkness as we journey through life.
In love and kindness we will shine against all odds, if we so choose.

By Jacqueline Ann Piech
06/18/2008
 
 

 

We Are

 We are the people of the United States of America.
We forget what blessings we have and where we came from.

We can sing in our own homes without fear of being arrested.
Or tortured as is done by North Korea to their own artists.

We are a melting pot, rich in traditions and cultures.
We celebrate our diversity but remain united in freedoms.


China is creating problems for the Olympic Games through visas.
Where we can travel across our entire country without restrains.
 
Ground and roads in the Mid-East are littered with land-mines.
We can walk safely from our homes holding our children's hands.

We have tragic history too but we fought, learned truth and grew.
We can praise God, speak our mind, protest within our own beliefs.

We still need reforms in health care, schools, the justice system.
Our vote, volunteering and kindness of heart will help us succeed.

We have been blessed with freedom from the sacrifice of many.
Including those who gave the highest price for us with their lives.

We are the people of North America across fifty united states.
Hearts that beat in tempo with love,hope,faith and freedom.

Happy Birthday America and Happy 4TH of July, we are the USA!

By Jacqueline Ann Piech
07/03/2008
  

 

 

Monuments Of Life

 

In a vision I was given, Jesus, showed me a field
with stone slabs in groups of three. As I viewed
them, I asked, "What does this mean?"
Jesus said, "They are the monuments of life that
every person has. No matter the person's gender, race
or age, it is what they give back to God and
leave for future generations."

The first slab I was instructed, was the person we
truly are. The second slab was the way we follow
God's will in our daily lives. The third slab were the
things we do not get done or accomplished before
we pass away.

In Jesus's wisdom and truth, the height of the slabs
determined how we lived our lives here on earth.
How much love, kindness, mercy, forgiveness and
trusting in God, we gave from birth.

I believe the tallest should be the second slab,
the first should be the next in height. The third

should
 be the shortest if we have failings through
out our life. All slabs are what we leave to future
generations to help fulfill God's plan.
 
Wisdom again granted to me, how tall or short our
slabs are, can always be changed before we die.
If we trust in God's Mercy and Love, our monuments
of life can be corrected and reach a blessed height
and give hope to others as well as glorify God.


By Jacqueline Ann Piech
10/11/2020

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

*Poems and more by Jacqueline Ann Piech*
All poems and stories belong to the author and are forbidden from being reproduced
and used for commercial purposes without the expressed written consent of the author.