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What Words May Come

Writing simple poetry, song lyrics and short stories has become so important to me over the past few years.  When I began my words were therapy for me though at the time I didn’t realize it.  I certainly never considered how impactful these words would become in my life and, from time to time, in other’s lives too.  What thrills me most is the feedback and how many different opinions and interpretations I get from one poem read through the eyes of others.  When I write the words simply flow without me getting too caught up in whatever theme may arise.  It simply starts with a line or sentence then blossoms from there.  I’ve been told it’s a gift, and while somewhere deep within me I believe that to be true, I wonder why it took so long to develop even as it continues to grow.  My grandfather was a writer, so perhaps that is where the answer lies.  Regardless, I hope you find some meaning, some smiles, some tears or something else worthy of your time here within these scripts.

God bless,

Kev

All works herein are owned and copyrighted

by Kevin D. Parish

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REACH OUT A WING… a Christian song

Fantasy, Angel, City, Light, Clouds

Reach out a wing

And help me find the strength I need

To climb out of this hole

Filled with despair

~~~

Can’t go alone, oh no

I need a helping hand

Heaven holds

The answer to my prayer

~~~

Long ago my momma cried

That awful sad sad day

When my daddy died

I saw what you could do

~~~

Now, she’s gone and left me here

The end for her

Was far too near

Why does life always end up this way

~~~

Reach out a wing to me

Show me God’s own grace

Lift me from this valley where I’m found

Reach out a wing to me

Save me in this place

Let me see the goodness all around

Reach out a wing to me

Won’t you, won’t you please…

Reach out a wing

~~~

Now I’m in my fifties

And I finally found the truth

The strength I needed then

Deep down inside

~~~

I hope my children see today

What I missed so miserably

Way back when, yeah

All those years in pride

~~~

And I know momma would be proud

The helpful hand out in the crowd

Loving those

Who never found their way

~~~

I guess this was just the time

When God’s great plan began to shine

And showed me what’s inside

Of one man’s grace

~~~

Reach out a wing to me

Show me God’s own grace

Lift me from this valley where I’m found

Reach out a wing to me

Save me in this place

Let me see the goodness all around

Reach out a wing to me

Show me God’s own grace

Lift me from this valley where I’m found

Reach out a wing to me

Save me in this place

Let me see the goodness all around

Reach out a wing to me

Won’t you, won’t you please…

Reach out a wing

Reach out a wing

Reach – out- your- wing

IDOL… micro-fiction

Image result for stone idol of a child
Image credit

I should have listened but, I was tired and didn’t want to get up again.  The cries in the night are not unusual for an active-minded child.  Well, that’s what the psychologist told us.  “Go back to sleep, honey!” my wife said to me at 2:02 a.m.  Yeah, 2:02 will forever haunt me.

You see our six-year old daughter was a sleepwalker, night talker and screamer.  Often, I would wake up to a small figure cuddling close to me in the wee hours of the morning.  I’d typically throw an arm around the child and go back to sleep.  On this night, however, she only screamed, and my wife and I decided to give it a few minutes before I got up to go comfort her.  She always slept through her nightmares, and she never remembered them the next morning.

This one time… Oh God!  This one time I let here scream more than usual, and even the abruptness of her stopping should have warned me something was different.  It wasn’t until the next morning when I went to her room to wake her that reality hit me.  My sweet daughter was gone, and I knew in an instant I would never see her again. 

I was still crumpled on the floor crying when my wife came to check on us and see what the hold up was.  Upon seeing what I saw – she too crumpled.  After a time, we managed to get up and discuss where we had gone wrong. 

The old stone-carved idol we had found on our vacation to the Grand Canyon lay where our daughter should have been lying in sweet slumber.  The old figurine that once occupied its countenance had changed to that of a young girl.  I guess the old Native American man wasn’t joking with us after all.