The Little Kitten 1-19-12

A tiny little kitten

whose feet were very sore,

wandered through the drifting snow

and right up to my door.

The weak meowing stirred me,

and drew me when she cried.

I crossed my room with aging feet,

inviting her inside.

She shivered and was hungry,

was frightened, very weak.

Confused, she wasn't trusting,

her future somewhat bleak.

Now even though I loved her,

I saw a troubled sign.

I thought about it for a bit -

compared her life to mine...

As she warmed up to me a bit,

I let her eat and rest -

but ran, she did, if I came close -

afraid of me, I guessed.

Now I was like that kitten,

and it became quite clear -

that I was frightened, ran away,

when Jesus got too near.

Then as the days kept rolling by,

she finally did prefer -

to be around and close to me.

She knew that I loved her.

Before I learned that God so loved,

my life was very grim.

And though He loved me very much,

I had no faith in Him.

Knowing that I love her so

and take good care of her -

knowing that I listen when

I hear her prayerful purr -

defines a word called "faithfulness",

defines a true belief -

not wandering out aimlessly

in blowing snow and grief.

So now you'll find her in my lap,

a tiny ball of fuzz -

but she had taught me faithfulness.

I know it's true because -

I once roamed like this kitten,

where snow and drifting harms,

but now I lie in pastures green -

with Jesus, in His arms.

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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My Mom 5-3-09

My Mom,
who hugged me after painful birth,
who loved me more than all this earth,
who tucked me in when I was cold,
who, though crying, she would hold,

who stayed up nights, looked over me,
who put me first, instead of 'she',
who didn't sleep - rocked me instead,
who kissed my tiny, warm forehead,

who proved her love time and again,
who never quit through thick and thin,
who, for days, awake would keep,
who held me 'til I'd fall asleep.

who fed me, bathed me, clothed me too,
who taught me, spanked me 'til I grew,
who knew my treasures on my shelf,
who knew me more than me, myself,

who told me, "Don't your brother taunt."
who gave advice I didn't want,
who knew behind my ears was dirt,
who gave instruction 'til it hurt.

Mom won't make our history book,
but if she did, no one would look.
Though she knew scripture inside-out,
there's nothing I could write about.

Was Mom so special? Not to you,
for she had me - then followed through.
Moms fall short of explanation -
but they built this very nation.

Mom, I love you -
(and all Moms everywhere....)

©2009 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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