Self Identity: The Higher Self

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More Than

A spirit
trapped
in bones and flesh
tendons and muscles.A complex network
of breathing cells
sinews and veins.
A vessel.Yet, I am more than
curves smiles and curls.
More than brain and gain.

I am an old soul
made in His image
A soul who cradles love
as the spiritual clutch
to the seat of my being.
A vehicle of amorous peace.

© 2 years ago, Melva Davids

Unleash that Spirit

Unleash
Unchain
Release
Unplug
Debug
Reclaim
Revive
Recharge
Renew
the spirit of grace
then find your place
at the feet of love.
© 2 years ago, Melva Davids

Candidly Yours

Here is a matter you should know
Before this friendship starts to grow
I do not borrow neither beg
Instead may break an arm and leg

My sobriety you may ponder
The question may warrant wonder
Grand  labels hastily ascribed
Prejudicially are prescribed

Of things socially appended
Subscription has been suspended
Aggrandized assigned pedestals
Are unstable not eternal

What you see is what I give you
Simple life I dear to pursue
I care not if my friend or foe
Prefer me packaged in a bow

Prompt #  7

I am not fond of pretense or hypocrisy and fitting into the status quo. This is sometimes interpreted negatively but what you see is what you get. I know I am imperfect in many ways but will not be confined to the definitions of others. I  am a work in progress on an inner journey with divine help and without the frills or pretense

 

© 5 years ago, Melva Davids

Look at Me

The pain twisted my frown
into a smile
so look at my smile
upside down, still smiling.
My heart twisted inside out
yet look at my heart
inside out, still loving.
My skin aches outside in
but look at my skin
outside in still breathing,
a testimony to God”s promise.I smile, love and breathe in thanks to life.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

Cost of a Smile

It doesn’t take a nickel,
it only takes a start
Then come the ripples
straight from the heart.
Keep smiling © a year ago, Melva Davids

So Much Have I Grown!

I have grown!
I have grown wiser;
heart has gotten stronger
My glance much longer
As I embrace age and life’s rage.
Stressors have shrunken
days have lengthened
Anger became lighter
Life has become sweeter
While I combat strife in its faceLet Earth burn with hate
I will not participate
I will anticipate the moment
Time ceases and grief releases
peace, peace, peace.

11. . 05. 2014

M. P. Davids

Consciousness Comes at a High Cost

The expanse of age,
diminished rage;
consciousness comes at a cost.

Full knowing
unveiling life’s treasures lost
It’s twist and turns
now meaningfully lucid
as tempers churn
and societies burn.

Wide awakening
to the inter-relatedness of life
the weaknesses of power;
progressive backwardness of light
while evil courts good entwined.

This consciousness comes at a price
where everyone is sane and everything game
– the masses paralyzed in meaningless jibes taunting:-
“West versus East, North versus South,
rich versus poor, black versus white;
futile fight where wrong is right.

The conspiracy in every knot tightens
while the impotent snoozes
The one who calls the shot twists, cares not
as long as this daze doesn’t rot
in this shadow world of forget and pass.

Alas, this consciousness is paid
in torturous sweat, pain, burned skin,
boiled blood. Indignation reaps undignified probing;
tentacles hover to disseminate hatred
coupled with pressure-infused radiated death.

For each drop of ink, screen flares lightning,
skin pinches, brain cells break, bones ache, ears ring,
seared skin simmers, antics mount.
Night owls become nightmares in New Age predictions;
delivering each blow without blinking.
When will this stop! or will the glass ceiling pop?

Yet this consciousness says we need each other;
the evil must work for good to prosper.
Poor needs rich, East needs West, North needs South,
good needs bad to complete the whole.
Unless- the compromise rests or lies in a well-liked word
named Love.

A reflection on my special day © 3 years ago, Melva Davids

My Country Has Birthed Me

I cannot cover the hole or turn away
I cannot cover the hole in my soul unless –
Unless I can articulate the source of my pain

My country has birthed me
I was taught pride in self and nation
Pride in my tongue; knowing where it belonged
Pride in my skin and in who I am
Respect for the human family.
I cannot cover the hole in my soul unless –
Unless I can recognize what life tossed at me
and know exactly what’s really mine

My country has birthed me
I was not taught the subtleties of racism,
Injustice, human indignity, warped equality.
I now recognize the relativity of democracy, free speech,
and thoughts-only after I exposed my insensibility
I cannot cover the hole in my soul until –
Until I can reconcile my confusion, pain
and disappointment in humanity

My country has birthed me
I was taught to take people at their word
I cannot cover the hole in my soul unless-
Unless I can articulate the source of my pain.

My pain, pain, pain…

 

2008

This is a personal reflection written a few years ago.

© 6 years ago, Melva Davids

Let me Laugh

 

Just let me laugh with the drifting clouds

Let me dance to the sound of each patter

Let me smile through each spark of lightning

While releasing the tremor of the last bolt

 

Just let me laugh with the sizzling sunshine

Let me smile with the setting sun

Let me rise with the wispy  vapour

Quenching the thirst that this heat brings

 

Let me sing to the earth’s rhythm

Let me hum to my heart’s drum

Let me rock to the jolt of anger

And cherish each breath as life spins

 

Let me laugh, let me sing, let me smile

Let me live, let me love, let me cry

Let nature take a break

While I savor its splendor and joy.

Pen meets paper © 5 years ago, Melva Davids

The Zenith

It is but another step into oblivion

reaching the zenith of life

where worlds collide

into question marks of red, grey

and in-between.

Reaching the zenith is but a futile quest

to bridle time and space

in a kaleidoscope of new requests

of ifs and buts of an unreachable place in time.

© a year ago, Melva Davids
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Words of Wisdom 2017

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Void Wisdom

This age of knowledge

in Earth’s twilight lacks wisdom.

This age of knowledge taken soullessly

void of responsibility lacks wisdom.

Like harlots, knowledge lie wasted

on vanity, objects, ego, power: bodies

lie bare to be had.

Knowledge devoid of wisdom compassed

by moral consciousness is an invisible bomb

in itchy hands -to Mother Earth.

 

© 12 months ago, Melva Davids

The Spark

One spark of hate can light a nation

One spark of hope can light a heart

that ripples to the next generation.

One negative word can cripple a dream

One look of affirmation can light a great

thought  to the next invention.

One unjust deed can spark a revolution

One act of love can make a path clearer

redeeming a desperate soul.

So light your spark, set each heart on fire

in a unified world where positive vibration

is the fuel and currency.

© 12 months ago, Melva Davids

The Future is Now

 On phone

alone
though crowded;
while it’s going down.                                                                                                                          A generation,
a future,
crowns,
frowns,
kingdoms
all around.

Tribulation
annihilation.
deception,
oppression,
activation,
precision.

Realms colliding.
Fears falling.
Eyes everywhere,
blinded
while it’s going
down, now.

© a month ago, Melva Davids

 

Integrity

But…
He did it!
He said!
She said!
I didn’t!
I did!
He did!
She did!
You did!
That’s what I’m doing!
That’s what I said!
That’s what you said!Constant bee hived

classic litany of millennial
children caught bending the rules.

A whining culture of passing the blame                                                                                           or talking back, mimicking society.                                                                                           When will this chorus end?

 

Son, show some integrity!
Who really did it?                                                                                                                                 ‘I did it.’ (a smile)
‘How difficult was that?’
Now make it right without that smile.’
‘There you go, show integrity!’

Reflection monologue  © a month ago, Melva Davids

Embattled Minds

Embattled minds
withstanding the tests of time,
mere fortresses without guards
battered by storms of life.
Iron on clay, endgame demise
of embattled minds.
© 11 months ago, Melva Davids

Is It Still Life?

Is it still life when hands
are too busy to touch?
Is it still life when
hearts are too busy to love?
Is it still life when
feet are too tired to go?
Is it still life when
hate is all we know?
Each breath stifled
into suspension of all we know,
where life has ceased to glow.
© 5 months ago, Melva Davids

The Price of Silence

Silence

can be golden

when words have no punch,

so weigh each word before

each breath escapes silence.

 

© 9 months ago, Melva Davids

The Lit Path

Two paths lay before us
one lit with dazzling gold;
the traffic is really swift
the other plain and narrow
with snail-paced grit.
Choose your path in wisdom
less you be outwitted
and the glory turns to dust.
© 11 months ago, Melva Davids

Flip Your Lenses

Flip Your lenses and see
it is not what it seems
please believe me.Flip
Your lenses and see
it’s turned upside down
it’s not what it seems
believe me.
Look down from above
then up from below
It’s turned inside out
upside down, believe me.It is not half full
it is not half empty,
this crystal is lead
please believe me.it is not brown
It is not the ground
It is not the sky
It is scarlet dew,
believe me.

Wash your groggy eyes
clear your weary minds
then look twice with the soul.
it is not what it seems
now believe me.

© 12 months ago, Melva Davids

Getting Off

 

De-tubing

de-booking from fake grid

of t-wit-ting

on smart digital orb

of mediated digitized selves.

 

Hopping off to a fulsome

reality with self in an

anti-hypnotic web where dreams

and thoughts not made and fed.

Taking back knowledge

from technology!

Technology © a year ago, Melva Davids

The Vices of Today

The

vices

of

today

will

make

history

tomorrow.

The

ones

who’ve

lost

their

way

will

claim

fame

for

inflicted

sorrows.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

 

Cycles End

Hark, it’s near the end,
the cycle almost phased.
Wretched age must grind
till Ben no longer tolls;

but yield to a sudden halt.

No more life to unfold
till dust re-scatters
to breathe new souls,
then new cycles begin.

Oh life, restore
peaceful hearts
forevermore.

 

Still Voice

There before you lies the truth,
Know the truth and it will set you free
Still voice sliced still night in chameleon grace
Harbinger of shattered human faith.
ominous voice © a year ago, Melva Davids

 

Infinity’s Grasp

I hold infinity in my hand
not knowing its perfection.
Softly it fades into simplicity
untainted by life’s humbugs to
reveal an endgame to continuity
Earth stands.
© a year ago, Melva Davids

 

Run On to Victory

The victim may wallow for a moment

but must never stay down,

for that demon keeps company

with darkness and misery

and will hijack life as its trophy

in its game of ‘tricks and master.’

The destroyer’s game of Russian roulette.

Movement is life so brush off

and run on to hope and victory.

Motivational © a year ago, Melva Davids

 

The Zenith

It is but another step into oblivion

reaching the zenith of life

where worlds collide

into question marks of red, grey

and in-between.

Reaching the zenith

is but a futile quest

to bridle time and space

in a kaleidoscope of new requests

of ifs and buts of an unreachable

place in time.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

 

The Vines are Ripe

The vines are ripe
the hands are few for the reaping.
The droughts of the harvest lie wasting
in the vineyards.The grapes unpressed
may wither ‘fore that day of harvesting.
But now the vines are ripe, ready for the
reaping.
© a year ago, Melva Davids

 

The Numbing

Steely fingers
like vice
grip  memories
to chilling heart
till time
with numbness
trickles in
on this infinite
bridge of
forgetfulness.

forgetfulness © 5 years ago, Melva Davids

 

Wisdom

Wisdom and knowledge

on collision course,
yet, on separate path may stray;
one bearing loaded words
the other bearing silence
till both meet at a cross road
called Life.

 

© 2 years ago, Melva Davids

 

A World of Knowing

 

When you think you know all,

leave some room for doubt

because twisted reality can

pose as factual and proven

beyond doubts and reason.

Each one must find his or her

resolute abstraction then take

time to understand the illusion

of unchallenged reason in a

world saturated with ever

changing knowledge and guise.

where today’s facts will tomorrow

die to rise as new knowledge

in a similar place but another time.

 

© 2 years ago, Melva Davids

 

Truth in Truth

Truth lies
at the base
where the root
springs into shoots
mushrooming
until truth becomes
disguised and elusive
to the point where
all truths start and end
in blindfolded lies.

 

© 2 years ago, Melva Davids

 

Where Youth Ends

Whenever the sun of youth is set
the night doth touch the sky
It’s then that wisdom filters in
and blazes  inner eyes.
When youth from recklessness
departs and sober thoughts abound
It’s then  the inner spirit stands
to conquer all life’s woes
So hasten on all wanton lusts
let folly moments fly
Make haste the dawning of the light
till consciousness alights.
© 2 years ago, Melva Davids

 

 

Overcomer’s Grace

The foolish gathers but in vain
gems, boats, luxury and fame.
The widow gathers painful woes
knowing not which wind will blow.
But she in humble solitude
prays to God in gratitude.
The foolish sailed against the rocks
a life of risks and heartless knocks.
He sails against the mighty waves
no care for lowly mindless slaves.
The widow still in platitude
sang praise to God for air and food.
But when they reached Heaven’s throne
The foolish found he was on his own.
No jet, no boat or real estate
himself stood trembling at the gate.

The angel beckoned to the one

whose grace had overcome and won.

The widow’s faith all mattered then
She’d run life’s race right to the end.

 

© a year ago, Melva Davids

 

Pilgrims

We are but pilgrims
on an unknown journey
that sometimes get familiar
as if it is a path already traveled.
This pilgrimage revolves
towards an invisible end
where Hope lies waiting
to pilot us into a great beyond

that lies within ourselves.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

 

Self Talk

The empath in her says
just one more chance
but self says, ‘enough.
love your self first,
stay well for you not
to serve a trapped soul
that wallows in self,
oblivious to the souls
reaching, sacrificing
time and will.’
In the end Love stands
to comfort her and self.
© a year ago, Melva Davids

 

Distant Hope

 

I look out at the horizon of time

and see hope beckoning to mankind.

Each ebb, each flow balancing strokes

as lifeboats sturdy against the tide

flow towards the lighthouse

beaming brightly in yonder sky

bidding each passenger

not to slide, quit or jump ship

with Hope in sight.

 

© a year ago, Melva Davids

Loving My Heart Back 2017

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The Numbing

Steely fingers
like vice
grip memories
to chilling heart
till time
with numbness
trickles in
on this infinite
bridge of
forgetfulness.

Melva P. Davids

 

Heart Snatcher

You stole my heart ripped it apart
then threw it to the wind.
A whirlwind came in a mighty rush
claimed all the broken pieces.
Took cells apart, my broken heart
strewn them in diverse places.
So now I stand confused and lost
no heart to warm cold memories.
You stole my heart ripped it apart
scampered away without a thought
of the agony heart faces.Now you stole her heart,                                                                                                                       ripped hers apart
strewn hers in diverse places
Like an aimless wind you have moved on by
destruction following each pathway.

Your lonely heart now hardened thick                                                                                        still hunting hearts to trample
Berserk and angry soul you are
no heart to give, just taking.

Heart of Love

Heart has no drought,
no desired thirsts.
Even in parched climes heart
remains malleable sane,
unflinchingly untouched
in arable patches and plains.
Oh scorched and formidable
love-winds blow thou contrite
lighthouse to the path of wayward
ships; tossing alongside feeble pulses
of blob bleeding blood of love,staying strong in storms and strife

looking on in admiration of stout

strength thou solid love rock called,

“Heart of Love not Lost.”

 

 

 

If My Heart Could Speak

If this heart could speak
it would speak of love
wrapped in abundant grace

If my heart could speak
it would share its pain
of ruthless agony and hurts

If this heart could speak
it would show each scar
from invisible seat of hate.

Though this heart will not tell
of its  nightly torturous hell
It will heal and mend each tear.

My heart replaces anger with joy
swaps malice with peace
untouched by bitter gall.

 

Heart Song

“I must go on,”
the refrain of
an unsightly scarlet blob
of mess I call my heart.
Without recess it pulsates
life giving energy emits
to engulf over- worked brain

“I must press on
to feed masses of organs
and cells that keep this vessel
fully loaded and well.
Moving debris to be filtered
or sent to the dump;
I must press on.”

I listened to your song
and pondered  the wisdom
of the craftsman who set
the pump house, filter system,
the drain and main circuit,
the brain to operate in unison;
a self- sustaining rigor
where thoughts and love combine
to sublimely embody me!

 

Taste of Love

Come tingle the length and breadth of my heart
until I taste the tantalizing breath of
that sacred feeling immortalized in love.

The agape kind of purple and red
that knows no doubt nor in between.
The kind that stops in the throat with no word
to explain the heaving or sighing of the swallow
even when the taste has left and the chocolate river
no longer drowns  the unmistakable taste
of untainted love.

Sleeping Heart

Wake up love to the beating rain
Let me hear your song again
Tell my heart it is still sane
To laugh and clap and sing of pain
Wake up love to passing hate
Light the way to your open gate
Wake up heart and listen well
Love’s awake each tune doth tell
My sleeping heart in slumber be
Awakens love’s infinity.

Hello world!

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Welcome to my blog and thanks for stopping by. These are some reflections that I have written over many years.I will also share some travel photos and videos as soon as I find some time to do so. Enjoy! Feel free to like and comment and be blessed.

 

The photo was taken in South Africa on the lake to Feather-bed Reserve. Copyright protocol must be observed before using this image.

God Talk

in

Prayerful Inspirational Poetic

Verses

I Must Tell Him

Melva P. Davids

July 2017

Introduction

Taking God off the pages of Holy Books and putting him in our hearts, thoughts and actions in these perilous times is of utmost spiritual important. Expanding the spiritual self rather than seeing the world through physical experiences have become of focal interest to humanity as life and its many interpretations unfold themselves. Songs,social media, poems, reflections, video logs or vlogs and blogs present plethora of ways to seek, make sense of  and rest in God’s presence in 2017 and onward.

Listening to and reading His words may become tedious for the spiritually oppressed. The battle for man’s soul has heightened in these times. In emerging from spiritual bondage when God is all that’s left and the world provides no other option, the Holy Spirit will guide this process. Be encouraged by this poetic journey. No matter how dark and hopeless life may seem, God will fix it.

He is Able

I know my God is able
to carry all my load
I know that he is waiting
to settle all life’s woes


I  know that God has listened
to all my rant and rage
If only I would let him
settle all my cares.


If only when I am tired
I’d give him full control
Only then I’d come to know
the power of God’s name.


Today I’ll lay each trouble
today I’ll give each fear
under God’s submission
where victory can be found

© 2 years ago, Melva Davids

A Beautiful Day

I usher in a rich day;
I am awake and grateful.
Thank you Father for fresh air,
sound sleep, chorus of birds,
the hope today brings.
Thanks for the shield,
the word, the thought,
lessons, the pitta patter.
Amen and Amen.

© 20 days ago, Melva Davids

Early Morning Praise

Every muscle
every cell
every silence
streams praise
to you, Abba
for the taste
of your ultimate gift
of life that breathes
into a new day.
May all sing your
unceasing praises
and lift your name
above all fears,
all kingdoms,
all powers, amen.

4 am. Feeling your presence, Abba © a month ago, Melva Davids

Did I Not Tell You?

Did I not say God has a sense of humor?
Did I not say he’d be on time?
Well there, He’s showed up just when you said it’s over.
Once more he’s been on time.

© 4 months ago, Melva Davids   

Swallowed Up

Swallowed up by tension,
swallowed up by pain
Swallowed by delusion and hate,
Leviathan strangling the brain.

No breath just choking on air.
Then a soft whisper, then a push;
No care, no motion, no fear.
Crashing fountain of hope-burst
to unwrap and sever the hooks.

No more tension, delusion or hurt,
the serpentine grasp is severed;
when Love steps on the court.

© 11 months ago, Melva Davids

Praise Moment

Friend of the meek,
friend of the lowly.
Master of time,
ancient divine, Holy.
Today you deserve
shouts of ‘glory!’

once more you’ve kept me in line,
away from the hidden storm.

Evil schemes, malicious lies,
naked and undone by your light.

My heart and soul sing
blessed savior and king
yes, you’ve kept me from dangers
oh, praises forever I’ll bring. Amen.

Praise © a month ago, Melva Davids   

Here I Stand in Your Stillness

I have emptied my self in search of Mercy.

I have stopped time to know Grace

when the heavens rage and I am kept busy

in chaos. Even then I’ll gaze on your abundant

glory and bask in your love.

Here I am in your stillness awaiting a new song.

Here I bask in your divine presence and unending love.
Anoint and protect this pleading soul
Cleanse this heart and give me strength untold.

Life’s journey you have conquered
please show me your way. Holy Spirit
stay within me and lighten the today.
Make me an instrument of goodness and love.

Here I am in stillness in awe of your power

 

© 11 months ago, Melva Davids

Overcomer’s Grace

The foolish gathered but in vain
gems, boats, luxury and fame.
The widow gathered painful woes
knowing not which wind would blow.
But she in humble solitude
prays to God in gratitude.

The foolish sailed against the rocks
a life of risks and heartless knocks.
He sailed against the mighty waves
no care for lowly mindless slaves.
The widow still in platitude
sang praise to God for air and food.

But when they reached Heaven’s throne
The foolish found he was on his own.
No jet, no boat or real estate
himself stood trembling at the gate.

The angel beckoned to the one
whose grace had overcome and won.
The widow’s faith all mattered then
She’d run life’s race right to the end.

© a year ago, Melva Davids  

Take Me to that Place

Take me to that place
where love begins and hope wins.

Take me to where peace lives
and roams and life gives.

Take me to a place where kind sun
whispers on the tip of the skin.

Oh let me touch Heaven to see
that place where love reigns.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

Your Grace I Embrace

Carnal eyes knew no limit
till Grace reached out
to pull life’s curtain
and expose my sins.

I cried out in earnest
and mercy stepped in.
Gave me a lifeline
while I was drowning in pain.

In grace, my eyes seek you,
my anchor and shield,
from wicked intentions
and pleasures of sin.

Grace in large portion
at the table of my King
who opened His heart
and pardoned my sins.

I now wait in earnest
to greet you in love
where hope lies awaiting
while the world is undone.

Prompt Titus. 2: 11-14 © a year ago, Melva Davids

Love Carried Me

When the tempest and the billows roar
Love sought and found me.


My tattered life the storm unfurled
but love in goodness covered me.


He took me in from the cold and sin
a wretched soul with no hope within.


Now I rest in peace on his loving arms,
no more fears and drudgery.

The storm has passed, I am now safe

at last, tender arms to guide me.
There he cleansed my soul and made

me whole with his caring mercies

Now I’ll spend each day in his loving care
claiming all his glory. Till he takes me up

to his home on high to live with him in glory.

 

© a year ago, Melva Davids

You Saw Me Looking

You saw me on my knees looking, searching;
lifted my eyes to truth, there in the mirror

of my mind staring back at self.

Daunting parallel eyes and minds stared

but for a while till loss became your tears to cry;
mind, your fears to heal. Taunting image of

heinous crime; you took that pain.

Divine comforter, center of forgiveness,
friend and King. I found you on my knees;
searching for my heart. Searching within.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

Grant Me

Humility, a listening ear
Light to see in dark crevices
of hearts and minds of men.

Feet and hands to act righteously
Most of all a song to sing
when the light goes dim.

Open eyes not blind to sin
A will to fight from within
Grant me divine love and a charitable heart
to serve mankind in sincerity and care. Amen

© a year ago, Melva Davids

Divine Love

I will cleave not unto my own

understanding; charlatans and sages.
There are many wise fools and there are angels
yet only His words can stand – to battle ignorance,

deception, chaos and strife in this time; this season
Obstacles and battles only divine love can mend.

© a year ago, Melva Davids  

A Quick Prayer

Let me not regret
one moment of this day
Let negative thoughts
and energies stay far away

Let my eyes see good
in every life
Let me not worry
about angering strife

Today I will hold life
against each breath
ignoring all notions
of darkened death.


Yours is this day, Lord
and I am grateful.

Amen

© a year ago, Melva Davids  

A Song for the Heart

My heart sings of your

outstretched hands,
your wisdom and love.


In silence you pilot your flock
with protective arms
guiding them on to eternal

peace and freedom.

My heart sings of

undeserved mercies

even in rebelliousness

when we stand resolute in sin.

My heart aches for your anointing

in a weary wasted land.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

The Awakening

The seat of the soul

where God’s spirit converses with the mind

to reveal dark secrets to the awakened self

before evil disguises through pineal encroachment

dilutes and resells as its awakened gift to man

in exchange for priceless will.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

Love Touched Her

She touched Love
Love touched her back
till she claimed healing.
Such is God’s love.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

Taste of Love

Come tingle the length and breadth of my heart
until I taste the tantalizing breath of
that sacred feeling immortalized in love.

The agape kind of purple and red
that knows no doubt nor in between.
The kind that stops in the throat with no word
to explain the heaving or sighing of the swallow
even when the taste has left and the chocolate river
no longer drowns the unmistakable taste
of untainted love.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

You are Goodness and Light

Another moment to drink
the liquor of fresh air and life

A precious time to delight
in God’s goodness and design

Another moment to say I love you Lord,
you are the architect of love.
Thank you for carrying me through last night.

You are a great protector,

Now heal my darkened light,
leave an anointing. Amen

Wake up greeting to my love and light © a year ago, Melva Davids

Drown Me

Drown me in sweet songs
like the summer rain on beaten path
overflowing, flooding brain, soul, heart
with unequaled love, abundant joy, grace,
unending wisdom and mercy.

Talk to my soul about secret things,
bring me into sweet covenant with divine will
in a world drowning in darkened dazzling and clasping sin.

Drown me in your living word right now
that I too may sing of love to reach a thirsty world
with living words of hope, light and love.

Amen

He Holds the Reins

God is present in my deepest pain
He lightens the burden when it’s too much to bear.
He lights dark pathways when the feet doth stray
And comforts weary hearts when life implodes
Let us in steadfast hold on to those reins
Knowing in earnest if our grips doth fail
He will anchor those reins in our hands again. Hallelujah!

(Even in the dark God is able).

© a year ago, Melva Davids   

A Prayer to God

That we may not be dragged

into rebelliousness and sin
through deceptive interpretation

of your outpouring or through webs

of deceptive illusion,

we pray to thee, Lord.

That we may not be vaporized,

atomized, liquefied through greed

and new age rage on life,

we pray to thee oh Lord.

That we may come willingly

into your goodness, truth and light.

That all spiritual chains be shattered

and scales be broken from our eyes,
we ask of thee, oh Lord

Lord, shower us with discernment,

wisdom, love and contentment

as we face each day, amen.

A Prayer to God © a year ago, Melva Davids

Yes I Know

Yes I know
who holds my hand
guiding, prodding me on
through tunnels of love
and skeletal graves
of whispered hate.
Yes, I know who holds
the future of uncertainty
on this human journey
with a working compass of love.
The ancient omnipotence
holding each star in place
’til the final trumpet breaks
crystal clouds of wrath
to signal the end to new starts
and glory of His son.

It is He who holds my hand.

© a year ago, Melva Davids  

Thanks for A New Day

Thanks for the Shadows, thanks for the rain
Thanks for new sunshine, thanks for lost pain
Thanks for the healing of the broken
and lost
For knowing your sunshine still warm cold hearts.
Dim the dark voices and light up today.
Joy and new blessings to brighten the way.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

Showers from Above

Divine love sown in showers
Garlands of peace to sooth brittle thirsty hearts
Clearing heavenly pathways to divine
springs of souls etched in scars.
Cool morning air after Night’s
sacred showers that came and went
just in time to His will.

Night shower © a year ago, Melva Davids

Your Time is Up

Your time is up
you wisp around my heart,
shadow of my past.

Your time is up
you veil inside my lenses,
blocking holy thoughts.

I choose to see light
through your darkness,
day through your night,
rays through your shadows
and love through your hate.

You blocking demon of the soul
I resist your every lie.

Your time is up,
your game’s been up,
go to the dry places
and don’t look back.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

Sweet Majesty

The Alpha
and omega
the author
and finisher
of our faith
and fate.
Sweet Majesty
of love.

Adoration and worship © a year ago, Melva Davids

Divine Guard

As I lay me down to sleep
I pray my God my life you’ll keep
Be the bearer of my soul
Keep me safe and make me whole
Be the light in these weary eyes
to watch and guard each silent sigh
Send an angel on each side
to guard me safely though the night
Make my dream an answer be
to guide my wake in purity
Make each shadow a candle stick
to reveal the devil’s wicked tricks
Clench each dart that comes my way
Bury them safely in Golgotha’s grave. AMEN.

Prayer vigil © a year ago, Melva Davids

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Vines are Ripe

The vines are ripe
the hands are few for the reaping.
The droughts of the harvest lie

wasting in the vineyards.

The grapes unpressed may wither

‘fore that day of harvesting.
But now the vines are ripe, ready

for the reaping.

 

© a year ago, Melva Davids  

Showers from Above

Divine love sown in showers
Garlands of peace to sooth

brittle thirsty hearts.


Clearing heavenly pathways to divine
springs; souls etched in scars.


Cool morning air after Night’s
sacred showers came and went
just in time to His will.

Night shower © a year ago, Melva Davids

He Reigns from Below

When life seems unsteady;

glory seems lost,
Christ reigns from below,

He abandons the throne.
Lifts up the beaten;

turns weakness to strength.
Steady the fallen;

enlightens dark paths.
He gives up that glory

to reach weary hearts.
To keep the spark burning

till God’s mystery is known.
Tonight He is earth bound

to sooth human sighs,
He reigns from below

when darkness ignites.

© a year ago, Melva Davids  

Just Praise

Glory, honor and power are yours
at my very weakest moment
because it is never going to be over
until you agree that it is,
so thank you Abba.
Amen

© 2 years ago, Melva Davids

Under Your Wings

Under each wing I’ll find sweet rest
let me stay and learn your ways
until I too can boldly claim
the power in your holy name

Let me find a place of strength
where I can fight with you in sight
the shadow of your fiery sword
where I am shielded by your words

Never let me from your gaze
while evil darts do eat dried flesh
unguarded souls this evil seeks
then leave them empty at thy feet

Let wisdom be my only goal
as I watch holy plans unfold
your peace each storm surely has known
under your towering mighty wings

© a year ago, Melva Davids

Lost Day

A day without you’d be lost
I trust your rugged cross;
not searching for elusive truth
then arriving to find that your words stand.

You who hold my days in your hands.


Fill me with your holy presence, Lord
Lift me up to a place of Divine Grace
Send your anointing till it’s overflowing,

You the Lamb, powerful and all knowing.


Let me into your warm embrace
Let me see your gentle face
and when my life on earth has ceased
take me to your holy place
where doubts and tears no longer be
and I can rest eternally with thee.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

A Prayer for Deliverance

Whisper a prayer for me in your head
a prayer to sever the devil’s grip on my life.
Yes! pray for victory right there in your bed.

Faith warriors, partner with me this moment.
Say a word to bind all that is fowl from my family,
my job, finance, health, soul and life.

Pray for restoration for what’s already taken
that doors of secrecy be pushed open,
and corridors of deceit and oppression shut.

Join this divine battle for my freedom and life
just pause right now and approach God’s throne
with a contrite heart on my behalf and pray.

Now that you have formed a shield of prayer
I now open a thankful heart to receive in faith God’s
promise and his hands guiding your own lives. Thanks.

Open request for prayer © 2 years ago, Melva Davids

Just Thankful Praise

Father, this moment is yours ;
I raise a thankful heart of praises
as atonement for my failures.
All pain, all guilt I place under your Grace
to be circumcised, purified and pruned
to reflect you and your design for my life.
I fall and fail to serve your will daily.
Bring me through temptations and ill will.
I love you, Abba! thanks for undeserving love.
Yes, you alone are God and you own life.

A tribute to Love © 2 years ago, Melva Davids

Wisdom Stares

I asked for perception, you gave me wisdom

that I now entrust for your safe- keeping

less the seeker takes without permission

from your temple, this broken vessel

through which your wisdom breaks and stares.

© 2 years ago, Melva Davids

God Is

Amid His awesomeness my soul

searches for meaning,

when nothingness surrounds;

feet imprinting the ground, searching.

Amid His radiance all hate,

greed and lust fade,

seeking substance, wisdom,

grace that transcends

decadence; sin’s exploits.

Amid a world where vileness rants

He stands to proclaim His peace

in hearts that break burdened by hate,

confusion, lies; searching for rest.

Yes, God is in the mess, the disbelief,

the wind, trees, no matter what, God is!

© 2 years ago, Melva Davids

Fervent Prayer for our Times

God of glory and of love
Reach down to us today
The perils that beset our world
We cast into your care.

The wars that plague our nations
the wounded grieving lives
the ruins among the ashes
We offer you each strife

New outbreaks of diseases
that challenge mankind’s lives
You know their every causes
so lend your healing hands.

We offer you this morning
all tyranny and evil guile
and may you just defender
protect all innocent lives.

We bring poverty and hunger
and place them at your feet
the homeless and the beggar
will at your table feast.

We bring you hardened hearts
and disillusioned tattered minds
that when these times are over
your peace and mercy find.

Take these our fervent prayers
as sweet sacrifice divine
and show the world your power
is merciful and kind.

 

© 2 years ago, Melva Davids  

Sold Out to My God

He has a keen sense of humour,’ I would often say.
When each impossibility he guided my way
Life’s wretched cruelty may harden my mind
But in God my creator sweet solace I’d find

He has a promptness about Him, always just on time
When my enemies snicker he says ‘You’ll be fine!’
Most of all he knows whatever is best
And often my patience he chooses to test

My God will never abandon me that much I know
Though I often falter, faith in Him I must grow
At times I cannot fathom why His love still remains
His unwilting grace sustains me, during life’s cruel pain

He provides shield and armor in a world laced with fear
Opens bosom of comfort to dry many tears
Led me through countless hazards, traps and regrets
Offers wisdom and courage in each goal I set

I cannot well imagine what my life would have been
Hadn’t he pardoned me and let His spirit come in
Now His joy in me has shattered mine enemies plan
I am sold out to God in every way that I can.

God will deliver © 3 years ago, Melva Davids

By Faith Not By Might

By faith; not by might
we fight

By Grace not by fear
we live

By love not by hate
we give

By hope not by sight
we feel

Pain of burnt joy,
melting ice-cold love
dripping from frigid hearts
as we toggle to silent tune
of unprovoked soul-snatching
war against blind anesthesia
where body counts
mount
to secret high
and gates stand ajar
to love.

Melva Davids 2013

(Faith is a gift from God wrapped up in trust and hope. Faith is revealed in the request of Jairus for his daughter’s life, and the woman with the issue of blood. Unwrapping our faith takes Grace and diligence to the Word. His Grace will help in the sense-making of the demonic force that seeks to distract us and devour our souls. God is good and His mercy is everlasting).

No Ammunition

No guns nor bombs
to bring the  lofty off their perches;

Ammunition of love, mercy, light and Grace
to upset evil plans and drag them to Christ’s feet.

No door ajar to shed light on truth and right.
Only prayer, bridled tears with Calvary’s Cross
as witness to tyrannical farce; where God’s
ultimate triumph stands and waits.

No trust in man, material frills, systems of
distractions, deceit and treachery.

The Word, the promise, the hope, the New Covenant
of peace in these tumultuous days when goodness sleeps
and God’s words blaze to fulfillment despite silenced indifference.

No access to propaganda device that cries folly to detract
Stones, dry bones, invisible prophets cry-
Daniel, Isaac, Jeremiah, Ezekiel
while terrors reign amid shameful progressive digital lies
devices that hide impenetrable hate while trading places
with God skies on thrones of temporary illusions;

Church sleeps hemorrhaging the immaculate hem of His heart.

© 3 years ago, Melva Davids

Giving Thanks for Life Today

Moments come and moments passed
Evil lurks amid the dark
Incensed fury of power and masks
giving thanks for life surpassed.


Innocent bystanders the evil takes
making mockery of their fate
Tyranny loose and caring paused
giving thanks for life advanced.


Induced terror at a click
marks the seat of New Age risks
Child now silenced cannot say
What malady took her home that way.


Torturous pain and fear doth rain
Make decent folks their easy prey.
Vacant eyes to truth and trust
survival their first goal must gain

Giving thanks for life today
Asking God to look this way
Knowing that His words remain
Giving thanks for all He’s done!


Today God’s Kingdom must appease
The prophecy each moment feeds;
Where barrenness a blessing be
and dying souls abide in Thee
.

© 3 years ago, Melva Davids

Make Me Worthy

If my words do not speak truth;
expose what’s real
If my thoughts do not seek to heal;
my lips you should seal
If my life does not comply
to principles of love.
Remove the veil from my mind
and make me worthily transform.

© 3 years ago, Melva Davids

Your Holy Name

In awe I stand, seeking
Longing to speak, crying
Conscious of the power
in your name

God of mercy and compassion
In pain I kneel, pleading
Calling on you, wanting,
anointing through

your holy words

Abba, my Father, HOLY lamb;
hallowed be thy name
As I partake in life’s cruel game
I’ll anchor assured in you.

Hallowed be thy name.

© 5 years ago, Melva Davids  

Death to Life

You rose from death to life for a reason
Your message blesses this Easter season;
Leave dead situations in life’s tomb
Cling to the cross where true life blooms

Your journey to Calvary, my soul sings
Of the hope your living water brings
Your wounded feet, your hands and side
Tell of your agony, your sacrifice.

Oh, how we love this Easter story
Of your priceless love and ultimate glory!
May we cling to this message of triumph
Rising to unfold Spring’s secret trove.

Easter reflection © 6 years ago, Melva Davids

The River Inside Me

There is a river that flows through my soul,

a ribbon of silk foam wraps smoothly round,
under boulders; along arid ground.

 

It empties malice, envy, pride and lust.
Quenches self-pride; wanton desires adjust.
Cools seething rage, purifies tainted thoughts

meandering its way steadfastly along hardened heart.

Trickling onward to the core of my being.

It glistens in sunlight reflecting dashed hopes;
shattered dreams glowing and sighing at what have been
Onward whispering at each seed of love, each pain and hurt;
an estuary of hope. Creates countless ripples wherever it rests.


Its caressing charm calmly inspires, during twists

through life’s valleys and droughts through life’s trails.

It pleases my spirit when I sit on its bank,
to gather my thoughts and meditate on life’s pranks.
I’d then dived bravely into its fathomless depth
and discover anew life’s burdens have been swept.

So I’ll surrender each breathe to this tranquil delight,
of the river that gives zest to my heart, soul and mind
And pray most earnestly it will never run dry;
for then I would no longer know the joy of true life,
of inner contentment and abundant peace;
The blessings and honor my soul has released.

Easter meditation 2012 © 5 years ago, Melva Davids

Job’s Lament

Send me your sunshine sprinkled with light dew
Take all the anguish and make my faith new

Sufferer’s plea during adversities © 5 years ago, Melva Davids

A Sufferer’s Plea

Send the golden sunshine

and sweet light rain
Take the heavy burden

and ghastly pain

A plea during extreme adversity

 

© 5 years ago, Melva Davids   

What Really Matters Is Your Grace

I tend to ponder and analyze the meaning of men
At lightning pace I’d tried to keep up with the race
But whenever I stumble and nothing makes sense
I’d turn to what really mattered, your wisdom and grace

My greatest fear when’er I seek tides of silk
Where material possessions are the pleasures of sin
I may get all wallowed in this quagmire of greed
Losing sight of what matters, your abundant grace

At times I get side-tracked all wrapped up in self
My shadowy past blocks the light to your path
I’d stumble in darkness until your tender arms reach
Snatch me from those shadows into your fullness of grace

What doth it profit to have accolades of men
When my brother is drowning in hunger and pain?
What doth it matter if I’ve got riches untold
If I stumble and fall from your amazing love?

My fervent prayer as I tread waves of time
Is to stay on this course of power and truth
Your words are my stronghold, when life falls apart
So guide me each day as I seek your true grace.

 

A little of everything as I give Him the praise this morning. He is truly amazing © 5 years ago, Melva Davids  

My Ever Present Help

My mountain top experiences were your divine course
On life’s road I trod, not knowing where I was going
Down in the valley low the many rivers I’d cross
I knew you were standing close, a life line you’d toss

My desert experiences you carried me through
Life changing decisions, you showed me what to do
When tempted or tried your tender voice I’d hear
Those words were my anchor in moments of fear

As I face my new battles being tossed to and fro
Your Holy Spirit is guiding the way I should go
So I place all my sins, all my sorrows and pain
Into your healing  hands so you’ll restore me again

(My prayer and praise this morning).

4th prompt Faith © 5 years ago, Melva Davids

Thy Will

In solace he reaches hiding his cares
Your words he reads to comfort his fears
No money, no cure, his reality lies bare
death’s arrow shunted but for a day.

He knows not the Healer whose power still stands
Dear Father I come on bending knees to this altar
I crave wisdom and healing through your anointed words
So I beg first forgiveness for all my many faults.
Remove clouds of doubts so to his soul I can speak.

Strengthen his hearts, you know all his needs.
Restore health and harmony in body, mind and soul
Rekindle his will, his family console so agonizing silence

who in quandary looks on, can replace nothingness
with hope when hopelessness calls

Be physician, provider and ultimate friend
Let thy will be done, Lord let each seek your face
The cancer is yours let your miracle be seen
Speak to his heart so he finds peace within every thought.
Holy Spirit sweet love divine please be his strength.

Father, I have pleaded, placed this case at the cross
The decision is yours, see this battle through.
We are but your hand-made, You know our fate
Let your will be done, Lord as I honor your name

Amen

© 5 years ago, Melva Davids  

Your Holy Name

In awe I stand
seeking
Longing to speak
crying
Conscious of the power
in your name

God of mercy
and compassion
In pain I kneel
pleading
Calling on you
wanting
Anointing through
your holy words

Abba, my Father,
HOLY lamb;
hallowed be thy name
As I partake
in life’s cruel game
I’ll anchor assured
in you.

Hallowed be thy name © 5 years ago, Melva Davids  

 

Story 2

Tags

Pancho’s Demise

Amidst the disquiet the village slept. The pregnant silence belied the undercurrent that had impaired the community over the past month. Pancho showed no qualms about his nocturnal mission as he jostled his wiry frame through the thicket that bordered Crawhill Cemetery. He brushed the thorns from his trousers with bare hands then sauntered towards his goal that lay straight ahead. An eerie feeling engulfed him as a huge rodent scampered across his path.

Bow wow! What the hell?” Pancho hissed as he slid then propelled on to the moist grass before regaining his composure. He hastened towards the object of his intent while wallowing in the splendid delight of the grey tombstones drenched in the golden moonlight before him. His stomach rumbled in excitement as he contemplated the mammoth cache of goodies that awaited him in the god forsaken hell hole sepulchers. Pancho swerved towards a freshly occupied pair of tombs and disappeared into the bowel of the graveyard to claim the object of his midnight rendezvous. If he worked fast enough he should be able to raid the work-site where the new bridge was being erected before the moon waned.

Back in Crawhill, dreams evolved into nightmares especially in the Colan household. The tragedy of the double drowning was still raw and has left the family members alternating between bouts of fitful slumber and deep sorrowful thoughts. More agonizing to their emotional turmoil was the rumour making the round that the Colan twins did not actually drown in the community tank as was recorded by the Coroner; but rather they had been murdered. Beka, the twins’ eldest sister and guardian, opened her eyes for the umpteenth time that night and shivered as a familiar chill ran down her spine. Her face too felt stiff and cold but she soon drifted off into another half stupor.

Bang! ploi! bloi! Frightened by the explosions, Beka shot up from the wooden bed; her cold feet hitting the concrete floor like a sledge-hammer! This was no nightmare, she thought to herself.

“What in the name of …?” Beka froze with wide-eyed questioning as more shots rang out seemingly from the four corners of the Colan’s homestead. In seconds her cold face transformed into a sweaty mess as she crouched on all fours under the comfort of her bed. In unison with her consternation, the rest of the household and village sprang to life in response to the midnight racket.

“Wai!” little Markie, Beka’s two year old squealed at the top of his lungs not knowing what to make of the chaos outside his window. As the turmoil died, Beka dragged herself from under the iron bed and tiptoed into Markie’s room. Arms outstretched, Markie turned flushed face towards Beka’s eyes in relief and plunged into her arms as she reached down to scoop him to her bosom. Time stood still as sporadic explosions gradually retreated into the distance to reveal stifled whimpering of canine and people alike. Moments later, there was deathly silence. No one dared to peek outside or breathe as the village watchmen disappeared among the shadows of the trees that cloaked the Colan’s residence and the outskirt of the community.

Meanwhile, as Pancho retraced his steps homeward through the familiar thicket that skirted the Crawhill cemetery, the smell of death consumed his senses and a sudden grip of fear permeated his very soul. He paused long enough to sniff the musky night air then listened for the familiar rant of the night creatures that entertained him earlier on. Every sound was muted! His matted hair seemed to be standing on end as he struggled under the weight of his precious cargo. It was this fearful instinct that propelled him into the shadows of the huge guango tree just in the nick of time before a seemingly frenzied creäture dashed past leaving many startled night insects in its wake. What or who it was, Pancho could not decide as the sudden disruption to the tranquil night petered out in the far distance heading towards the dry riverbed on the other side of Crawhill. Remnants of a pungent acrid smell of smoke or sulphur left Pancho nonplussed as to his close calamity. Pancho wasted little time as he limped back on to the beaten trail that led to his house in the distance. By then, the moon had died to a pale light and the shadows of the overhanging trees played havoc with Pancho’s heart and head.

As he sauntered towards the back of his house, his neighbour’s dog initiated a gut wrenching howl that reverberated around the village where other animals and cracked windows accompanied the village mongrels in their spontaneous ensemble. Lights now burned brightly in each window creating a surreal Christmas effect amidst the chaos. Luckily for Pancho, the canopy of trees in his yard provided enough cover for him to conceal his loot before retreating to the safety of his beaten down back door that invited him into the darkness of his bedroom.

The Colan’s house next door was in darkness but Pancho could hear muffled sounds floating through a window upstairs. He pulled the curtain shut while trying to shake the eerie feeling that he was being watched from outside.

“Who is there? a shaky voice croaked from across the concrete fence. “Misa Pancho, yuh a rait? The concerned voice queried.

‘Why should I not be okay?’ Pancho mused to himself. He tiptoed to his single bed and sank into its soft comfort with a sigh of relief. Pancho had become accustomed to the unusual hours of the Colan family since the tragedy but the lights in the other houses in the dead of night seemed rather unusual. Unaware of the earlier events, Pancho fell into a deep sleep even as his head hit the make shift pillow. The sound of the siren and flashing lights next door or the voices of the brave at heart who ventured out to investigate the night’s proceeding did not awaken him. This decision not to respond to Beka’s query would later lead to Pancho’s demise. The moon died completely as Rebecca Colan’s motherly figure retreated from the upstairs window while quietly mulling over the reason for Pancho’s uncharacteristic behaviour.

Beka listened as Sergeant Brown explained what she had already suspected; Roshane and Oshane were both murdered then dumped into the village tank. The explosions and the fear that had disturbed the community earlier were totally forgotten amidst the dismal news that the Sergeant brought to Beka. A new symphony began as the villagers and bloodhounds alike mixed howling and wailing which travelled across the river to the other side of Crawhill. Ron Pinkett stirred in his sleep for a few minutes to listen to the mournful chorus ricocheted across the valley to grace his hearing in his luxurious mansion across Craw River. Had he known the source responsible for this invasion of his privacy, he would have probably aborted his night’s sleep. As the caretaker of Crawhill, Ron Pinkett had many civic and humanitarian roles to play in his community. However, tonight, he was not ready to forfeit his sleep to score points with the community members. Being the owner of Pinkett Constructions and a co-owner of Pinkett &Pinkett Jewelers left little time for his custodial duties, however, he tried to carry them out as best was humanly possible. As a member of the school board of Crawhill High, he was the first person to show up at the school once the news of the drowned boys became known to the community. Moreover, he had given personal support to the family in both deeds and kind. Oshane and Roshane were well-loved in the community so his gift of two gold pins displaying their names noticeably stood out on the breast pocket of the white shirt that adorned each corpse at the viewing during the funeral ceremony. What more could the community ask of their benevolent caretaker?

The clouds hung oppressively low over the mountains surrounding Crawhill, however, the Sunday morning rays rose confidently to meet the new day and wilted the animal carcasses that strewn the pathway leading to Beka’s small farm on the plot of land at the far corner of the family property. Mixed with the stench of the dead animals was the lingering scent of the sulphur from the fire crackers that the village boys had tossed at the prowler or prowlers that night. As the evidence became clearer, groups of community members met to discuss the racket of the night before. Praedial larceny has become common-place in the community of Crawhill. The older boys in the community had met in their youth clubs and decided to do something about it. Mr. Pinkett’s suggestion of a neighbourhood watch has evolved into a vigilante type response to any action against the ordinary folks of Crawhill. The use of the fire cracker was secretly planned by these boys and executed with the desired effect of instilling fear in would be thieves.

The tale of the slaughtered animals became stale news within an hour and the news of murder became the topic of choice for the people of Crawhill. After much speculation, the community settled into their Sunday routine with a heavy heart. Pancho pushed his wooden door and gingerly made his way towards the shack in his yard where he had locked away his treasures the night before. He greeted Miss Beka in his usual chirpy Sunday morning voice on his way back but she merely reciprocated with a furtive look and a grunt in response to his trouble. The pungent smell of the fire cracker emanating from Miss Beka’s yard had Pancho’s senses tingling. The smell rekindled the anxiety he felt during his unexplained encounter the night before. He soon noticed the remnants from the fire cracker strewn about his neighbour’s yard and wondered about their origin. His gut instinct hinted at imminent trouble and so he thought it best not to comment about the smell less he had to explain his lack of knowledge of whatever had upset Miss Beka or accounted for the display of ammunition in her yard.

Covert and overt glances and whispers followed Pancho as he made his way to Miss Laylor’s shop nearby. Pancho’s mind was in turmoil that escalated after he greeted a group of men playing dominoes outside the entrance to Miss Laylor’s shop and on cue, the men all left without responding. As he pushed his gate, he was greeted by a group of dogs having banter over the carcass of a furry white goat that resembled that of Miss Beka’s prized ram. Pancho knocked on the gate to Miss Beka’s home to raise an alarm but turned just in time to see an angry mob with seemingly ill intent marching towards him with sticks and cutlasses ready for battle. Pancho summed up the situation in mid-air as he scaled the fence and headed along the familiar path that he traveled hours earlier. In a jiffy, he entered the confines of the cemetery where he knew not many would dare to venture. He found refuge between two of the bodies he had desecrated the night before. In the silence of the twinned sepulchre, Pancho assessed his dilemma. The familiar smell of embalmed flesh did not deter his thoughts as he listened for any intrusion from the exterior of his new abode.

“Man a fi iit a bred an piipl niid wuk,” Pancho consoled himself, his knitted eyebrows forming deep furrows across the ridge of his face. He burrowed himself between the two caskets and fell asleep. His dreams took him to the last encounter he had with the twins who had frequented the construction site near the water tank on many occasions prior to their untimely passing.

The global recession has seen many informal economic activities burgeoning in rural communities such as Crawhill. The ‘cash for gold’ and the ‘scrap metal’ industries have both taken root across the country and have become the lifeline for many including Pancho. In addition, an increase in incidents of praedial larceny also became common practice. Many metal frames from bridges, manhole covers and even relics from four generations earlier have been dismantled and sold as scrap metals all over this pristine Caribbean country.

It was being rumoured that the ready markets for both merchandise was headed by the upstanding Mr. Pinkett who was accessible to all thus providing a ready outlet for the fencing of anything metallic that could be carted away. So it was a month ago when Pancho had overheard the alert twins reporting to Mr. Pinkett, in his capacity as the caretaker of the community, that they had stumbled upon a stock pile of metal frames that were seemingly taken from the work-site of the new bridge. The pile was hidden near the village water tank, they had told him. Pancho watch as the newly appointed foreman, Simon, who was busily sorting some rods in a shed outside paused long enough to listen to the shatter inside before making his way behind the shed towards the village.

“Thanks for the vigilance boys, I will take care of the matter,” Ron Pinkett had offered in consolation to the upset twins. That was the last Oshane and Roshane were seen alive.

When the bodies turned up in the murky waters of the village tank a few days later, Pancho felt an unease that he could not explain. He had shaken the thought that kept circling in his head since he has known Mr. Pinkett to be a model family man and community leader despite rumours of him dabbling in the thriving cash for gold and scrap metal trade enterprises. As far as Pancho knew, these were legitimate deals with little questions being asked when the goods were received by the contacts on the ground. Pancho did not tell anyone of the twin’s encounter with Mr. Pinkett at the site two days before they were reported missing as he did not want to cause any unfounded trouble or suspicion towards the caretaker and his family. Pancho is well aware of how rumours and mischief can easily spread in this mostly closely knitted community.

The sound of barking dogs in the distance soon brought Pancho back to the land of the living. Now that Pancho was on the run, he considered making his way to Mr. Pinkett for protection but felt the familiar knot in his stomach in response to the thought. Pancho stretched and scratched his head trying to figure out why the villagers had set upon him that morning. He was almost certain no one had seen him the night before. Little did Pancho know that he was the only neighbour who was not seen outside after the commotion that fateful night and to the self-styled village watchmen that made him a prime suspect for the slaughter of the animals and probably murder!

The news of the near lynching reached the village lawmen an hour later. Sergeant Brown was not amused. Vigilante style justice will not be tolerated under his watch. Moreover, he had his reservation about Pancho’s guilt for both alleged crimes as was reported to him by a foreman from Pinkett’s Construction site. A routine check of Pancho’s house revealed nothing of interest.

“Brr! Brring! The ringtone on Sergeant Brown’s Smartphone continued to voicemail as he came to a halt at the half opened door to the outhouse in Pancho’s yard. “Mama mia! what have we got here?” the lawman queried while staring at what awaited behind the half opened door of the outhouse. Metals of varying lengths and sizes were stacked against the inner walls while familiar sacks with Pinkett Construction insignia added to the interesting find. The whereabouts of the metal brackets removed from the incomplete new bridge in the neighbouring community had been a major puzzle for the lawman and his team for the past month. He was more taken aback by the find in the pocket of an old denim jacket thrown over an empty sack on the floor. The names on the two golden pins that were among the jewelery items made the sergeant even more shocked at the discovery. “Is someone trying to mask a setup?” Sergeant Brown asked himself. He placed a call to his superior in the neighbouring town and sought personnel to crack the case and capture Pancho before the inevitable village onslaught.

Meanwhile, Pancho resolved to his fate, made his way into the open to view the source of the barking hounds that seemed to be getting closer by the minute. He was relieved upon seeing Sergeant Brown with two other officers bringing up the rear along with Mr. Pinkett and his plant foreman both tightly tethered to the chains of two deadly looking Doberman bloodhounds. As they crossed the open field, Pancho shook uncontrollably staring down the barrels of the M16 the approaching officers were pointing at him. He was not sure what to make of the presence of Mr, Pinkett and his foreman and was consciously relieved when he noticed a group of boys in the distance observing these proceedings.

Sergeant Brown beamed “You are charged with the murder…,” Pancho was deaf to everything else that was said as the arresting officer shut the handcuff around his wrists and propelled him forward with a push. He sighed deeply and pondered the new hell hole that awaited him in the cell in the neighbouring town. Suddenly his thoughts were shattered and fear gripped Pancho as a Doberman lounged towards him. He shrieked like a dying hog and grabbed the starched shirt of the officer who had restrained him earlier. Sergeant Brown’s spontaneous instinct to protect Pancho resulted in a solid bullet being placed in the skull of the vicious attacker. Pancho experienced a similar fear to that which he had felt when the unknown creäture had rushed past him on the path from his escapade the night before. The distinct smell of sulphur and smoke coming from the animals coat was even more disturbing.

The arresting officer stared at the owner of the ill-fated dog with a puzzled look. Mr. Pinkett, clearly shaken stared back wordlessly. Simon, the foreman he had appointed a month and a half earlier seemed discomfited by the Officer’s curious stare, turned to seek Pinkett’s eyes. Today will be another eventful day Sergeant Brown thought as he assessed the scene amidst an awkward moment of silence. He marshaled Pancho before him with his fellow lawmen following pensively behind. He turned back to see Mr. Pinkett and his foreman engrossed in what seemed to be a heated argument.

The community of Crawhill lay ahead as the small army marched forward and exited the cemetery. A small crowd cheered them on. Beka, an astute woman stared at the scene before her eyes but relief was soon replaced by sadness when the frightened Pancho turned to gaze at her with the Sergeant gripping the waist of his trousers while eyeballing the tense crowd. The uncanny resemblance of captor and captive set Beka’s mind racing but the sadness in the eyes of both men especially Pancho touched her even more deeply. Like a lamb to the slaughter, Pancho entered the car and held down his head without a backward glance.

As the car sped into the sunset Sergeant Brown turned up the radio to listen to the local news and ponder the day’s event. The monotony of the broadcaster’s voice intruded his thoughts, “The Minister of Industry has told Parliament that a halt will be put on the unregulated export of scrap metal until further notice.” He turned the knob of the radio and sighed as the soothing voice of Whitney Houston permeated his whole being. The blast of a truck horn to his right could not break his concentration. He glanced at his prisoner once more to convince himself that his intuition about the extent of Pancho’s innocence was indeed to be trusted. As they stared at each other, he could sense an unexplained connection between them that made him feel uneasy. It never rains but pours in Crawhill,” he mused then shook his head to regain his composure. Tonight will be a long night for everyone.

As a young rookie, Paul Brown was assigned to the Crawhill Police Station ten
years ago. Prior to that he lived in a farming community west of Crawhill. He had
one serious relationship as a young man in his village but Nora had left the
community unexpectedly and without further contact leaving Paul heart-broken.
His way out of his misery was to join the force and migrate to Kingston for training. He met his wife, Paula, at the Carib Theatre a month before his graduation as a fully trained officer of the law. Paula was in her final year of training at the Mico Teachers’ College nearby. They have been blessed with an adoring son after years of trying to start a family. Samuel and Paula are his lifeline.

“Hi! Dad” Samuel shouted from where he was perched under the tree in the centre of the station yard; PSP game was put on hold as he gazed at the familiar looking face of the man in his father’s grip. Sergeant Brown glanced at the car to his left in which his wife sat reading a book. As he mounted the step, prisoner in toe, his heart leaped to his throat at the sight before him. The arresting officers who had accompanied him to the cemetery had taken the short cut across the river and seemed to have struck gold. Sitting before him, handcuffed to a wrought iron bar was Simon the foreman of Pinkett and Pinkett. In the far corner was Mr. Pinkett staring with obvious shock and disappointment at his ex-employee; now prisoner. He looked up as the pair entered the outer room then shifted his gaze to the floor once more.

“I am certainly glad to see you both,” offered Mr. Pinkett apologetically while scratching his head. Pancho gazed at Simon, not knowing whether to feel ecstatic or apprehensive.

Pancho was escorted to a desk across the room and was being interrogated by the officer on duty. “Your name?” the officer inquired barely looking at the figure seated before him.

“Mi niem Pancho!” he whispered before clearing his throat.

“Mi miin yuh ful niem, bwai! Yah iidiat?” the officer could not control his mirth as he stared at the discomfited man staring back at him in dismay.

“But a Pancho mi niem. Afisa, but mi rait niem a Paal Brown.”

Though enraptured with the story being related to him by Mr. Pinkett and the arresting officers, Sergeant Brown couldn’t resist listening in on the discourse between Pancho and the young officer on the other side of the room. Hearing his given name coming from Pancho’s mouth in his Creole accent prompted his undivided attention.

“Weh yu mada niem?” the officer prodded settling down to write once more only after Sergeant Brown gave him a cold stare from across the room.

“Mi Mada niem, Nora sah! Pancho responded.

“Norah What?” the officer inquired looking at Pancho’s eyes quizzically.

“Mi no nuo har ada niem sah, a mi grani mi gruo wid!” Pancho almost whispered. By this time, Sergeant Brown excused himself and instructed the officers to take full statements from the prisoner after reminding him of his rights to procure a lawyer. The Sergeant, without a credible explanation decided to take over the interrogation of Pancho in a back room of the station. The young officer felt usurped by this action and was unsure of what to make of this untypical behaviour by his superior.

After a long discussion with Pancho, Sergeant Brown learned that his mother had died eight days after giving birth to him in Kingston and he was sent by his aunt, in whose care he was left by his mother, to live with Grandma in the little village from which the Sergeant himself grew up. It took Sergeant Brown a good half an hour to relish the meaning of what he just heard. He shifted between an expression of relief in knowing and sadness in knowing that the man Pancho has become was thwarted by his ignorance to his existence before this conversation. It will take awhile to sink in, he thought to himself. He was not sure how he, his family and Pancho will resolve this matter but thought he needed to sleep on the matter after such an eventful day. The Sergeant scolded Pancho severely about his escapade and released him with a note to be given to Miss Beka explaining the turn of events in the capture of Simon the goat and scrap metal thief, vandal and murderer.

Pancho stared at Sarge with relief then thanked him for not sending him to prison. He agreed to have the Sergeant spirit away the stolen goods from his property without anyone knowing about his wrong doing and promised to be a model citizen going forward.

As Pancho rose from the chair, he rubbed his bruised wrist and said, “Mi wish mi di hav wan fada laik yu wen mi dida gruo, mi uda tun out beta.”

Sarge winced then slapped Pancho on his back and replied, “ You never too old to have a father, from now onward, you can come down and talk to me at any time, okay!”

Paul Brown beckoned the young officer at the front desk and advised him to take Pancho back to Crawhill and to make it known that the criminal who raided and plundered the community was taken into custody.

Happy Poems: Love, Hope, Joy, Triump and Peace Poem

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Dance With Me – Melva Davids

Dance With Me

The first time we danced
was the night you proposed
We knew there and then
our destiny was settled
Our feet intertwined
as we grooved toe to toe
There we bumped and wiggled
to the slide and twist
Then we both shimmied
down to the floor.

Our eyes talked then
our lips made a pact
The longing was sealed
in your long embrace.
Tonight my love
we have tied the knot,
Just dance with me.

Dance to the rhythm of our hearts
as we did that night
The floor is waiting,
they are playing our song.
Come let us groove
till they dim those lights
Let us create new memories
through this special dance.

Hold me closer, let us sway
in unison to each waltz
As we synchronize each step
our bodies become one
The symbol of the journey
we have begun.

Dance with me my love,
let us rehearse each move
Hurry the night on
till our last guest is gone
Then we will dance
to our own eternal song
for the rest of our lifetime,
just dance with me.

Melva P. Davids 2008

 

Sylvie and Laurent (Cameroon Wedding in SouthCarolina).

088

 

 

Heart of the Homeless

Zeno had no brain or so they said.

No pride, not able to decide

his own destiny.

You see, he was a total giver

who gave his smile, his home,

his heart to whomever.

He was happy if everyone else

was until one day he had nothing

left to give except his smile which

he could not see; his sight grew dim.

It was then that they censored him

as the fool who gave himself fully unto

nothingness.

But still he smiled and thought,

‘my common sense tells me that it is sensible

to give as long as it makes me happy.’

Zeno continued to give his smiles to the faceless

silence on the pavement where he now lives a

penniless happy-go-lucky saint.

 

 

More Love

Haven’t written about you lately
so I’ll sip on the memory of love past
and on fulsome love tomorrow
when my pen finds that missing zest
in my heart to write of love surpassed.

© a month ago, Melva Davids  

 

Early Morning Praise

Every muscle
every cell
every silence
streams praise
to you, Abba
for the taste
of your ultimate gift
of life that breathes
into a new day.
May all sing your
unceasing praises
and lift your name
above all fears,
all kingdoms,
all powers, amen.

4 am. Feeling your presence, Abba © a month ago, Melva Davids

The Spark

One spark of hate can light a nation
one spark of hope can light a heart
that ripples to the next generation.

One negative word can cripple a dream
one look of affirmation
can light a great thought to the next invention.

One unjust deed can spark a revolution
one act of love can make a path clearer
to a desperate soul

So light your spark set each heart on fire
in a unified world where positive vibrations rule.

© 11 months ago, Melva Davids

Cost of a Smile

It doesn’t take a nickel,
it only takes a start
Then come the ripples
straight from the heart.

Keep smiling © a year ago, Melva Davids

Dancing Lily

Soft white lily bobbing your head
to the push of the gentle wind.
Like a boat being tossed by the waves
you sway backwards and sideways
in tune with its rhythm.
Oh how gracefully you glide
as the wind caresses.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

Take Me to that Place

Take me to that place
where love begins and hope wins.

Take me to where peace lives
and roams and life gives.

Take me to a place where kind sun
whispers on the tip of the skin.

Oh let me touch Heaven to see
that place where love reigns.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

Did I Not Tell You?

Did I not say God has a sense of humor?
Did I not say he’d be on time?
Well there, He’s showed up just when you said it’s over.
Once more he’s been on time.

© 4 months ago, Melva Davids

The Cascade Falls

The cascade falls from dawn till noon
a steady beat upon their heads
until the twilight breath of air
comes crashing through the windy rain.

The night birds aim the cascade calls
a seasoned chorus of insects fall
along the bridge of frigid rain
the cascade fades against the dark.

The night erupts with sounds of joy
Teenagers victims of nights charm.
Giggles, shrieks and latent roars
carries onward into dawn

© 12 months ago, Melva Davids

Winds of Change

East wind of the West soars high
above chasms made of hate and lies.
Your strength known in diversity
clings tight to remnant liberty
where all was one and one was all
left centre stage reality.

Oh Southern wind of Western sky
where black men live and made to die
strangers in toughened skins and hides,
unsure of their identities, lash out in rage
and bitter grief, each day a kinsman’s left to lie

Will selves to float up up on high
o’er rage and hate and senseless fights.
Change now the course of human hearts
where many souls are marked to part
or trapped neath darkened secret lies.
Knees bent below oppressors blow
awaiting change to quell each groan.

Winds of change sweep sea and land
cleanse crust and core of evil hands
Leave nothing undisturbed or neat
unruffled stroke of divers plagues.
Drench each breath with love and joy
carry all pain to mountains high
so mothers, fathers, cousins, child
live cheerful, peaceful chainless lives.

© 12 months ago, Melva Davids

Overcomer’s Grace

The foolish gathers but in vain
gems, boats, luxury and fame.
The widow gathers painful woes
knowing not which wind will blow.
But she in humble solitude
prays to God in gratitude.

The foolish sailed against the rocks
a life of risks and heartless knocks.
He sails against the mighty waves
no care for lowly mindless slaves.
The widow still in platitude
sang praise to God for air and food.

But when they reached Heaven’s throne
The foolish found he was on his own.
No jet, no boat or real estate
himself stood trembling at the gate.

The angel beckoned to the one
whose grace had overcome and won.
The widow’s faith all mattered then
She’d run life’s race right to the end.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

Look at Me

The pain twisted my frown
into a smile
so look at my smile
upside down, still smiling.

My heart twisted inside out
yet look at my heart
inside out, still loving.

My skin aches outside in
but look at my skin
outside in still breathing,
a testimony to God”s promise.

I smile, love and breathe in thanks to life.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

Early Birds

Nothing can be more tuneful
than the charades of early birds
chirping like automated orchestras
humming in refrain to the language of love
in myriads of tongues and tones.
Early Bird catches, watches and sings
till everyone wakes to drink life
before sunrise on the sea of rapturous
nature.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

[ This is Bliss ]

This is bliss.
Consciousness rising,
a Phoenix ready to lift
to an immortal swelled sea of knowing
where everything is nothing
and nothing is all there be,
a sea of unending possibilities.
May thy will be done.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

Sweet Sleep

When sleep becomes love ,
naught is strange in dreamland
where the unlikely can become reality,
the fountain where the sleeper lays her head.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

The Taste of Relaxation

Each sinew speaks as tenseness eases,
the taste of relaxation squeezes
through each pore: each wave
a tingling sensation that connects to the soul.
Stars in the eyes, the mind’s eyes
symphony of peace, being one with self releases.
Singing  songs of restitution, restoration, positive vibration,
love surging to a crescendo of exhilarating tons of love.
I love, I do. Peace, now- put up your feet.
Chilaxing and relaxing in love.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

Painting Rainbows

Painting rainbows across the sky
in rows of pretty hues.
Arched brows of radiant colors bright,
droplets of sunlit glue.

Painting rainbows across the heart
where love and peace abound.
Bedecked with grace and seasoned joy.
Unbroken rings that glow.

Darkness is Everywhere… Let There Be Light, God is Light, Life, Goodness and Love.

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In the Stillness of the Night

POEMS

July 2017

In the Stillness

In the stillness of the night Light ceases

In the still night darkness wakes

Hearts breathe life in suspension

while God reigns supreme protecting

his own at every stroke.

Mighty is the Lamb.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

 

Divine Guard

As I lay me down to sleep
I pray my God my life you’ll keep
Be the bearer of my soul
Keep me safe and make me whole
Be the light in these weary eyes
to watch and guard each silent sigh
Send an angel on each side
to guard me safely though the night
Make my dream an answer be
to guide my wake in purity
Make each shadow a candle stick
to reveal the devil’s wicked tricks
Clench each dart that comes my way
Bury them safely in Golgotha’s grave. AMEN.

Prayer vigil © a year ago, Melva Davids

 

Night’s Nightmare

When night becomes nightmare
and evil invades thin pores layered
behind dead skin

When night sweat tells what darkness
dares to dim

When night sounds become good company
that wakes the living dead.

When night light blizzards through glass of silver tint
seek flesh to burn and organs to devour.

When coiling serpent like demon turns up play
with sleeping organs behind shielded glass of pain

After which anguish rears its stealthy head
through  orifices  linked to sleeping eyes and cells

Then light arrives to find answers that men may deride
and moral man too weak to speak may chide.

© 2 years ago, Melva Davids   

 

She Bears No Grudge

Last night’s terror unprovoked
yet she bears no grudge.

Invisible weaponry
from invisible hands
torched skin,

penetrated deep
seared heart still beats,
bones still weep,

unharmed target slept,
yet she bears no grudge,

no hate- only pity
for the heart
that did not sleep;

that chose to belie
the true strength of humanity,

love for a brother,

protection of a sister,
a peaceful soul,
unmasked light worker,

not shielded by night,
greed and hate.
She bears no grudge, just pity.

After traumatic night. © 5 days ago, Melva Davids   

 

Tipped Wings

Awaken to searing numbness of prolonged death defied,
the characterized pain broke her wings again and she tipped;
opened the flood gate of dried well; turned her heart inside out
to her God; willed Him to explain silent distance as evil rained nights
of blackened light on tormented follicles and cells under scarred skin.

Over time pain ebbed and she relented to close the morn
but soon the unperturbed implant decided to attack her bowels
with his usual flashing gadget stacked in front militant chest
emitting cloaked rays below the waist.

DNA imprint and script of open terror consciously aimed invisible missiles
with marked intent to sever or maim until later when she lies still and drained
in isolated cocoon cell where evil crawls throughout walls
to bring her under subjugation of collective non-consensual game
of hate and necrophiliacs’ rage that stalks night through walls and skies

when the dumber consciousness of us slumbers preoccupied
and victims weep silently on broken wings waiting and hoping
to survive another day of pretended gait on tipped wings.

© 3 years ago, Melva Davids

 

Night Cooking

Cooked inside out in midnight waves.
Lasers, beams and rays a woeful bed.
Chemicals churning on the inside,
from poisoned grub. Trundle wheels

now propped right overhead.
No sleep for the wicked. or so they said.

Morning birds now awakened so off to bed.
Put trundle, put oven away instead.

Recover til another night comes again.
Nocturnal hunt is over so catch a wink.
Catch a wink quickly before all’s let loose.
All misery will be over before this World awakes.

© 19 days ago, Melva Davids   pain poemssociety poems

 

Night Prowler

Stealth poison courses through blue
De-oxygenated veins, toes thinned
to cracked black while night owl holed up

on nocturnal prowl, carcinogenic potion

in sacred brew ready for midnight plunder.

Persistent tampering and break-ins

know no rest, thumping about

till daybreak waiting for shut eyes

to invade the privacy of the crib

and scatter tares as clueless sleep.

When will the pit cave and sanity win?

© 19 days ago, Melva Davids

 

The Cascade Falls

The cascade falls from dawn till noon
a steady beat upon their heads
until the twilight breath of air
comes crashing through the windy rain.

The night birds aim the cascade calls
a seasoned chorus of insects fall
along the bridge of frigid rain
the cascade fades against the dark.

The night erupts with sounds of joy
Teenagers victims of nights charm.
Giggles, shrieks and latent roars
carries onward into dawn

© 11 months ago, Melva Davids

 

Under a Raging Moon

It followed me again through sleeping trees;

it stared with boiling eyes on my dream as I slept.

The rumbling bus could not out ride

the raging moon- golden beams through my skin

settled in as I slept beneath draped din.

Still scarlet moon trailed the silence
like Sherlock and Watson on a trail
that has gotten stale
and misleading.

Aha, it’s near dawn when the red hot moon

will freeze in the presence of the haughty sun.

 

Surreal Night

Surreal night stood lost.
Ghost-like boat
clipped clear still water

Snow-covered shores blinked

ominously; revealed great beyond.

Sweet Sleep

When sleep becomes love ,
naught is strange in dreamland
where the unlikely can become reality,
the fountain where the sleeper lays her head.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

 

Vigil in the Shadow

Like a caged animal he waits in the dark

listening and prodding to find that ladder

to heart’s desire for human slumber

when evil implants itself at human doors

to enter sacred altars of suspended mind and soul aslumber.

Darts unseen ready to strike bare hearts in listless state

Statistic in waiting, his assigned tasks under the thumb of its prey.

Unknown stranger spawned between duty and sleep waits


as dawn breaks and love shines through.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

 

The Hornet’s Nest

When midnight rests
the hornets’ nests
doth wake!
Pilfering fumes of death
in stealth her dreams doth take,
till Gossamer ”s shield
in frenzy shakes his feet,
to wake the night and charge
the dawn to speak.
Then the hornets’ flight
night’s pestilence desists.

Midnight  trysts © a year ago, Melva Davids

 

Still Voice

There before you lies the truth,
Know the truth and it will set you free
Still voice sliced still night in chameleon grace
Harbinger of shattered human faith.

ominous voice © a year ago, Melva Davids

 

Familiar Battlefield

He’ll take off tomorrow on his usual tryst

in his dreams of hyssop and vinegar.

He’ll fly across gorges as he does each night

to find lost treasures that Earth has kept.

He will fight dragons and demons once more

only this time he will do so with wide open eyes

on the open plain surrounded by naught but the

familiar rhythm of tired breaths and fresh sweat.

Yes, he’ll feel the wind of victory on his neck

and will know for sure, this time he will win!

© a year ago, Melva Davids

Midnight Scavengers

Night vultures on the midnight train
are on the prowl tonight for lone carcass.
Yup! At it again, their scorching pain
of molten flesh under burned skin
their quest for wasted brain.

Night owls behind remote walls aim
x-ray beams at most sacred parts
severing cells from membranes
inside wavering organs, fried heart
so sure of their untouchable selves.

Midnight assassins have mounted
the last stance, at Guts-ridge
daggers drawn closing in.
Why, how, when was the first blood drawn;
who calls the tune behind invisible screen?

Fear spews utter hate as night sleeps.
Scavengers grin waiting for the kill;
a trophy head on silver platter. Then Love
shatters death’s fowl plan once more.

© 2 years ago, Melva Davids

Suckers’ Party

Mother suckers decided it’s feeding spree;

soon as night settles they came in droves.
Tainted tentacles seeking rhesus dregs,
projectiles like vampires aiming for jugular bed,

as if the incessant buzzing was not enough!

Scavenging tired flesh, the din continued into the night
until all were stuffed, translucent bloodied dots

limping along white fringed walls, decorating
every inch of space like darkened spots.
Succumbed to a wretched hang over; they slept.

Shamelessly suspended above limped host,

pot bellied anopheles waited for their last breath

wallowing in misery after unholy feast.
No need to SWAT these scumbags to death;

mere vectors attending their own farewell gig.

Licking wounds the suckers lingered in putrid vomits

leaving red swollen mounds and festered pus of death 

waiting to attack the defense line. In poetic twist

the suckers too will wither then pass leaving twisted writhing

of chickengunya to fight.

© 2 years ago, Melva Davids

Kingdom Verses

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God Talk

in

Prayerful Inspirational Poetic

Verses

I Must Tell Him

Melva P. Davids

July 2017

Introduction

Taking God off the pages of Holy Books and putting him in our hearts, thoughts and actions in these perilous times through songs, social media, poems, reflections, video logs and blogs present plethora of ways to seek and rest in God’s presence in 2017 and onwards.

Listening to and reading His words may become tedious for the spiritually oppressed. The battle for man’s soul has heightened in these times. Emerging from this bondage when God is all that’s left and the world provides no other option, the Holy Spirit may turn the darkness into poems and songs to inspire others. Enjoy the journey on this site and pass the love on to others in spiritual needs.

He is Able

I know my God is able
to carry all my load
I know that he is waiting
to settle all life’s woes


I  know that God has listened
to all my rant and rage
If only I would let him
settle all my cares.


If only when I am tired
I’d give him full control
Only then I’d come to know
the power of God’s name.


Today I’ll lay each trouble
today I’ll give each fear
under God’s submission
where victory can be found

© 2 years ago, Melva Davids

A Beautiful Day

I usher in a rich day;
I am awake and grateful.
Thank you Father for fresh air,
sound sleep, chorus of birds,
the hope today brings.
Thanks for the shield,
the word, the thought,
lessons, the pitta patter.
Amen and Amen.

© 20 days ago, Melva Davids

Early Morning Praise

Every muscle
every cell
every silence
streams praise
to you, Abba
for the taste
of your ultimate gift
of life that breathes
into a new day.
May all sing your
unceasing praises
and lift your name
above all fears,
all kingdoms,
all powers, amen.

4 am. Feeling your presence, Abba © a month ago, Melva Davids

Did I Not Tell You?

Did I not say God has a sense of humor?
Did I not say he’d be on time?
Well there, He’s showed up just when you said it’s over.
Once more he’s been on time.

© 4 months ago, Melva Davids   

Swallowed Up

Swallowed up by tension,
swallowed up by pain
Swallowed by delusion and hate,
Leviathan strangling the brain.

No breath just choking on air.
Then a soft whisper, then a push;
No care, no motion, no fear.
Crashing fountain of hope-burst
to unwrap and sever the hooks.

No more tension, delusion or hurt,
the serpentine grasp is severed;
when Love steps on the court.

© 11 months ago, Melva Davids

Praise Moment

Friend of the meek,
friend of the lowly.
Master of time,
ancient divine, Holy.
Today you deserve
shouts of ‘glory!’

once more you’ve kept me in line,
away from the hidden storm.

Evil schemes, malicious lies,
naked and undone by your light.

My heart and soul sing
blessed savior and king
yes, you’ve kept me from dangers
oh, praises forever I’ll bring. Amen.

Praise © a month ago, Melva Davids   

Here I Stand in Your Stillness

I have emptied my self in search of Mercy.

I have stopped time to know Grace

when the heavens rage and I am kept busy

in chaos. Even then I’ll gaze on your abundant

glory and bask in your love.

Here I am in your stillness awaiting a new song.

Here I bask in your divine presence and unending love.
Anoint and protect this pleading soul
Cleanse this heart and give me strength untold.

Life’s journey you have conquered
please show me your way. Holy Spirit
stay within me and lighten the today.
Make me an instrument of goodness and love.

Here I am in stillness in awe of your power

 

© 11 months ago, Melva Davids

Overcomer’s Grace

The foolish gathered but in vain
gems, boats, luxury and fame.
The widow gathered painful woes
knowing not which wind would blow.
But she in humble solitude
prays to God in gratitude.

The foolish sailed against the rocks
a life of risks and heartless knocks.
He sailed against the mighty waves
no care for lowly mindless slaves.
The widow still in platitude
sang praise to God for air and food.

But when they reached Heaven’s throne
The foolish found he was on his own.
No jet, no boat or real estate
himself stood trembling at the gate.

The angel beckoned to the one
whose grace had overcome and won.
The widow’s faith all mattered then
She’d run life’s race right to the end.

© a year ago, Melva Davids  

Take Me to that Place

Take me to that place
where love begins and hope wins.

Take me to where peace lives
and roams and life gives.

Take me to a place where kind sun
whispers on the tip of the skin.

Oh let me touch Heaven to see
that place where love reigns.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

Your Grace I Embrace

Carnal eyes knew no limit
till Grace reached out
to pull life’s curtain
and expose my sins.

I cried out in earnest
and mercy stepped in.
Gave me a lifeline
while I was drowning in pain.

In grace, my eyes seek you,
my anchor and shield,
from wicked intentions
and pleasures of sin.

Grace in large portion
at the table of my King
who opened His heart
and pardoned my sins.

I now wait in earnest
to greet you in love
where hope lies awaiting
while the world is undone.

Prompt Titus. 2: 11-14 © a year ago, Melva Davids

Love Carried Me

When the tempest and the billows roar
Love sought and found me.


My tattered life the storm unfurled
but love in goodness covered me.


He took me in from the cold and sin
a wretched soul with no hope within.


Now I rest in peace on his loving arms,
no more fears and drudgery.

The storm has passed, I am now safe

at last, tender arms to guide me.
There he cleansed my soul and made

me whole with his caring mercies

Now I’ll spend each day in his loving care
claiming all his glory. Till he takes me up

to his home on high to live with him in glory.

 

© a year ago, Melva Davids

You Saw Me Looking

You saw me on my knees looking, searching;
lifted my eyes to truth, there in the mirror

of my mind staring back at self.

Daunting parallel eyes and minds stared

but for a while till loss became your tears to cry;
mind, your fears to heal. Taunting image of

heinous crime; you took that pain.

Divine comforter, center of forgiveness,
friend and King. I found you on my knees;
searching for my heart. Searching within.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

Grant Me

Humility, a listening ear
Light to see in dark crevices
of hearts and minds of men.

Feet and hands to act righteously
Most of all a song to sing
when the light goes dim.

Open eyes not blind to sin
A will to fight from within
Grant me divine love and a charitable heart
to serve mankind in sincerity and care. Amen

© a year ago, Melva Davids

Divine Love

I will cleave not unto my own

understanding; charlatans and sages.
There are many wise fools and there are angels
yet only His words can stand – to battle ignorance,

deception, chaos and strife in this time; this season
Obstacles and battles only divine love can mend.

© a year ago, Melva Davids  

A Quick Prayer

Let me not regret
one moment of this day
Let negative thoughts
and energies stay far away

Let my eyes see good
in every life
Let me not worry
about angering strife

Today I will hold life
against each breath
ignoring all notions
of darkened death.


Yours is this day, Lord
and I am grateful.

Amen

© a year ago, Melva Davids  

A Song for the Heart

My heart sings of your

outstretched hands,
your wisdom and love.


In silence you pilot your flock
with protective arms
guiding them on to eternal

peace and freedom.

My heart sings of

undeserved mercies

even in rebelliousness

when we stand resolute in sin.

My heart aches for your anointing

in a weary wasted land.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

The Awakening

The seat of the soul

where God’s spirit converses with the mind

to reveal dark secrets to the awakened self

before evil disguises through pineal encroachment

dilutes and resells as its awakened gift to man

in exchange for priceless will.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

Love Touched Her

She touched Love
Love touched her back
till she claimed healing.
Such is God’s love.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

Taste of Love

Come tingle the length and breadth of my heart
until I taste the tantalizing breath of
that sacred feeling immortalized in love.

The agape kind of purple and red
that knows no doubt nor in between.
The kind that stops in the throat with no word
to explain the heaving or sighing of the swallow
even when the taste has left and the chocolate river
no longer drowns the unmistakable taste
of untainted love.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

You are Goodness and Light

Another moment to drink
the liquor of fresh air and life

A precious time to delight
in God’s goodness and design

Another moment to say I love you Lord,
you are the architect of love.
Thank you for carrying me through last night.

You are a great protector,

Now heal my darkened light,
leave an anointing. Amen

Wake up greeting to my love and light © a year ago, Melva Davids

Drown Me

Drown me in sweet songs
like the summer rain on beaten path
overflowing, flooding brain, soul, heart
with unequaled love, abundant joy, grace,
unending wisdom and mercy.

Talk to my soul about secret things,
bring me into sweet covenant with divine will
in a world drowning in darkened dazzling and clasping sin.

Drown me in your living word right now
that I too may sing of love to reach a thirsty world
with living words of hope, light and love.

Amen

He Holds the Reins

God is present in my deepest pain
He lightens the burden when it’s too much to bear.
He lights dark pathways when the feet doth stray
And comforts weary hearts when life implodes
Let us in steadfast hold on to those reins
Knowing in earnest if our grips doth fail
He will anchor those reins in our hands again. Hallelujah!

(Even in the dark God is able).

© a year ago, Melva Davids   

A Prayer to God

That we may not be dragged

into rebelliousness and sin
through deceptive interpretation

of your outpouring or through webs

of deceptive illusion,

we pray to thee, Lord.

That we may not be vaporized,

atomized, liquefied through greed

and new age rage on life,

we pray to thee oh Lord.

That we may come willingly

into your goodness, truth and light.

That all spiritual chains be shattered

and scales be broken from our eyes,
we ask of thee, oh Lord

Lord, shower us with discernment,

wisdom, love and contentment

as we face each day, amen.

A Prayer to God © a year ago, Melva Davids

Yes I Know

Yes I know
who holds my hand
guiding, prodding me on
through tunnels of love
and skeletal graves
of whispered hate.
Yes, I know who holds
the future of uncertainty
on this human journey
with a working compass of love.
The ancient omnipotence
holding each star in place
’til the final trumpet breaks
crystal clouds of wrath
to signal the end to new starts
and glory of His son.

It is He who holds my hand.

© a year ago, Melva Davids  

Thanks for A New Day

Thanks for the Shadows, thanks for the rain
Thanks for new sunshine, thanks for lost pain
Thanks for the healing of the broken
and lost
For knowing your sunshine still warm cold hearts.
Dim the dark voices and light up today.
Joy and new blessings to brighten the way.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

Showers from Above

Divine love sown in showers
Garlands of peace to sooth brittle thirsty hearts
Clearing heavenly pathways to divine
springs of souls etched in scars.
Cool morning air after Night’s
sacred showers that came and went
just in time to His will.

Night shower © a year ago, Melva Davids

Your Time is Up

Your time is up
you wisp around my heart,
shadow of my past.

Your time is up
you veil inside my lenses,
blocking holy thoughts.

I choose to see light
through your darkness,
day through your night,
rays through your shadows
and love through your hate.

You blocking demon of the soul
I resist your every lie.

Your time is up,
your game’s been up,
go to the dry places
and don’t look back.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

Sweet Majesty

The Alpha
and omega
the author
and finisher
of our faith
and fate.
Sweet Majesty
of love.

Adoration and worship © a year ago, Melva Davids

Divine Guard

As I lay me down to sleep
I pray my God my life you’ll keep
Be the bearer of my soul
Keep me safe and make me whole
Be the light in these weary eyes
to watch and guard each silent sigh
Send an angel on each side
to guard me safely though the night
Make my dream an answer be
to guide my wake in purity
Make each shadow a candle stick
to reveal the devil’s wicked tricks
Clench each dart that comes my way
Bury them safely in Golgotha’s grave. AMEN.

Prayer vigil © a year ago, Melva Davids

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Vines are Ripe

The vines are ripe
the hands are few for the reaping.
The droughts of the harvest lie

wasting in the vineyards.

The grapes unpressed may wither

‘fore that day of harvesting.
But now the vines are ripe, ready

for the reaping.

 

© a year ago, Melva Davids  

Showers from Above

Divine love sown in showers
Garlands of peace to sooth

brittle thirsty hearts.


Clearing heavenly pathways to divine
springs; souls etched in scars.


Cool morning air after Night’s
sacred showers came and went
just in time to His will.

Night shower © a year ago, Melva Davids

He Reigns from Below

When life seems unsteady;

glory seems lost,
Christ reigns from below,

He abandons the throne.
Lifts up the beaten;

turns weakness to strength.
Steady the fallen;

enlightens dark paths.
He gives up that glory

to reach weary hearts.
To keep the spark burning

till God’s mystery is known.
Tonight He is earth bound

to sooth human sighs,
He reigns from below

when darkness ignites.

© a year ago, Melva Davids  

Just Praise

Glory, honor and power are yours
at my very weakest moment
because it is never going to be over
until you agree that it is,
so thank you Abba.
Amen

© 2 years ago, Melva Davids

Under Your Wings

Under each wing I’ll find sweet rest
let me stay and learn your ways
until I too can boldly claim
the power in your holy name

Let me find a place of strength
where I can fight with you in sight
the shadow of your fiery sword
where I am shielded by your words

Never let me from your gaze
while evil darts do eat dried flesh
unguarded souls this evil seeks
then leave them empty at thy feet

Let wisdom be my only goal
as I watch holy plans unfold
your peace each storm surely has known
under your towering mighty wings

© a year ago, Melva Davids

Lost Day

A day without you’d be lost
I trust your rugged cross;
not searching for elusive truth
then arriving to find that your words stand.

You who hold my days in your hands.


Fill me with your holy presence, Lord
Lift me up to a place of Divine Grace
Send your anointing till it’s overflowing,

You the Lamb, powerful and all knowing.


Let me into your warm embrace
Let me see your gentle face
and when my life on earth has ceased
take me to your holy place
where doubts and tears no longer be
and I can rest eternally with thee.

© a year ago, Melva Davids

A Prayer for Deliverance

Whisper a prayer for me in your head
a prayer to sever the devil’s grip on my life.
Yes! pray for victory right there in your bed.

Faith warriors, partner with me this moment.
Say a word to bind all that is fowl from my family,
my job, finance, health, soul and life.

Pray for restoration for what’s already taken
that doors of secrecy be pushed open,
and corridors of deceit and oppression shut.

Join this divine battle for my freedom and life
just pause right now and approach God’s throne
with a contrite heart on my behalf and pray.

Now that you have formed a shield of prayer
I now open a thankful heart to receive in faith God’s
promise and his hands guiding your own lives. Thanks.

Open request for prayer © 2 years ago, Melva Davids

Just Thankful Praise

Father, this moment is yours ;
I raise a thankful heart of praises
as atonement for my failures.
All pain, all guilt I place under your Grace
to be circumcised, purified and pruned
to reflect you and your design for my life.
I fall and fail to serve your will daily.
Bring me through temptations and ill will.
I love you, Abba! thanks for undeserving love.
Yes, you alone are God and you own life.

A tribute to Love © 2 years ago, Melva Davids

Wisdom Stares

I asked for perception, you gave me wisdom

that I now entrust for your safe- keeping

less the seeker takes without permission

from your temple, this broken vessel

through which your wisdom breaks and stares.

© 2 years ago, Melva Davids

God Is

Amid His awesomeness my soul

searches for meaning,

when nothingness surrounds;

feet imprinting the ground, searching.

Amid His radiance all hate,

greed and lust fade,

seeking substance, wisdom,

grace that transcends

decadence; sin’s exploits.

Amid a world where vileness rants

He stands to proclaim His peace

in hearts that break burdened by hate,

confusion, lies; searching for rest.

Yes, God is in the mess, the disbelief,

the wind, trees, no matter what, God is!

© 2 years ago, Melva Davids

Fervent Prayer for our Times

God of glory and of love
Reach down to us today
The perils that beset our world
We cast into your care.

The wars that plague our nations
the wounded grieving lives
the ruins among the ashes
We offer you each strife

New outbreaks of diseases
that challenge mankind’s lives
You know their every causes
so lend your healing hands.

We offer you this morning
all tyranny and evil guile
and may you just defender
protect all innocent lives.

We bring poverty and hunger
and place them at your feet
the homeless and the beggar
will at your table feast.

We bring you hardened hearts
and disillusioned tattered minds
that when these times are over
your peace and mercy find.

Take these our fervent prayers
as sweet sacrifice divine
and show the world your power
is merciful and kind.

 

© 2 years ago, Melva Davids  

Sold Out to My God

He has a keen sense of humour,’ I would often say.
When each impossibility he guided my way
Life’s wretched cruelty may harden my mind
But in God my creator sweet solace I’d find

He has a promptness about Him, always just on time
When my enemies snicker he says ‘You’ll be fine!’
Most of all he knows whatever is best
And often my patience he chooses to test

My God will never abandon me that much I know
Though I often falter, faith in Him I must grow
At times I cannot fathom why His love still remains
His unwilting grace sustains me, during life’s cruel pain

He provides shield and armor in a world laced with fear
Opens bosom of comfort to dry many tears
Led me through countless hazards, traps and regrets
Offers wisdom and courage in each goal I set

I cannot well imagine what my life would have been
Hadn’t he pardoned me and let His spirit come in
Now His joy in me has shattered mine enemies plan
I am sold out to God in every way that I can.

God will deliver © 3 years ago, Melva Davids

By Faith Not By Might

By faith; not by might
we fight

By Grace not by fear
we live

By love not by hate
we give

By hope not by sight
we feel

Pain of burnt joy,
melting ice-cold love
dripping from frigid hearts
as we toggle to silent tune
of unprovoked soul-snatching
war against blind anesthesia
where body counts
mount
to secret high
and gates stand ajar
to love.

Melva Davids 2013

(Faith is a gift from God wrapped up in trust and hope. Faith is revealed in the request of Jairus for his daughter’s life, and the woman with the issue of blood. Unwrapping our faith takes Grace and diligence to the Word. His Grace will help in the sense-making of the demonic force that seeks to distract us and devour our souls. God is good and His mercy is everlasting).

No Ammunition

No guns nor bombs
to bring the  lofty off their perches;

Ammunition of love, mercy, light and Grace
to upset evil plans and drag them to Christ’s feet.

No door ajar to shed light on truth and right.
Only prayer, bridled tears with Calvary’s Cross
as witness to tyrannical farce; where God’s
ultimate triumph stands and waits.

No trust in man, material frills, systems of
distractions, deceit and treachery.

The Word, the promise, the hope, the New Covenant
of peace in these tumultuous days when goodness sleeps
and God’s words blaze to fulfillment despite silenced indifference.

No access to propaganda device that cries folly to detract
Stones, dry bones, invisible prophets cry-
Daniel, Isaac, Jeremiah, Ezekiel
while terrors reign amid shameful progressive digital lies
devices that hide impenetrable hate while trading places
with God skies on thrones of temporary illusions;

Church sleeps hemorrhaging the immaculate hem of His heart.

© 3 years ago, Melva Davids

Giving Thanks for Life Today

Moments come and moments passed
Evil lurks amid the dark
Incensed fury of power and masks
giving thanks for life surpassed.


Innocent bystanders the evil takes
making mockery of their fate
Tyranny loose and caring paused
giving thanks for life advanced.


Induced terror at a click
marks the seat of New Age risks
Child now silenced cannot say
What malady took her home that way.


Torturous pain and fear doth rain
Make decent folks their easy prey.
Vacant eyes to truth and trust
survival their first goal must gain

Giving thanks for life today
Asking God to look this way
Knowing that His words remain
Giving thanks for all He’s done!


Today God’s Kingdom must appease
The prophecy each moment feeds;
Where barrenness a blessing be
and dying souls abide in Thee
.

© 3 years ago, Melva Davids

Make Me Worthy

If my words do not speak truth;
expose what’s real
If my thoughts do not seek to heal;
my lips you should seal
If my life does not comply
to principles of love.
Remove the veil from my mind
and make me worthily transform.

© 3 years ago, Melva Davids

Your Holy Name

In awe I stand, seeking
Longing to speak, crying
Conscious of the power
in your name

God of mercy and compassion
In pain I kneel, pleading
Calling on you, wanting,
anointing through

your holy words

Abba, my Father, HOLY lamb;
hallowed be thy name
As I partake in life’s cruel game
I’ll anchor assured in you.

Hallowed be thy name.

© 5 years ago, Melva Davids  

Death to Life

You rose from death to life for a reason
Your message blesses this Easter season;
Leave dead situations in life’s tomb
Cling to the cross where true life blooms

Your journey to Calvary, my soul sings
Of the hope your living water brings
Your wounded feet, your hands and side
Tell of your agony, your sacrifice.

Oh, how we love this Easter story
Of your priceless love and ultimate glory!
May we cling to this message of triumph
Rising to unfold Spring’s secret trove.

Easter reflection © 6 years ago, Melva Davids

The River Inside Me

There is a river that flows through my soul,

a ribbon of silk foam wraps smoothly round,
under boulders; along arid ground.

 

It empties malice, envy, pride and lust.
Quenches self-pride; wanton desires adjust.
Cools seething rage, purifies tainted thoughts

meandering its way steadfastly along hardened heart.

Trickling onward to the core of my being.

It glistens in sunlight reflecting dashed hopes;
shattered dreams glowing and sighing at what have been
Onward whispering at each seed of love, each pain and hurt;
an estuary of hope. Creates countless ripples wherever it rests.


Its caressing charm calmly inspires, during twists

through life’s valleys and droughts through life’s trails.

It pleases my spirit when I sit on its bank,
to gather my thoughts and meditate on life’s pranks.
I’d then dived bravely into its fathomless depth
and discover anew life’s burdens have been swept.

So I’ll surrender each breathe to this tranquil delight,
of the river that gives zest to my heart, soul and mind
And pray most earnestly it will never run dry;
for then I would no longer know the joy of true life,
of inner contentment and abundant peace;
The blessings and honor my soul has released.

Easter meditation 2012 © 5 years ago, Melva Davids

Job’s Lament

Send me your sunshine sprinkled with light dew
Take all the anguish and make my faith new

Sufferer’s plea during adversities © 5 years ago, Melva Davids

A Sufferer’s Plea

Send the golden sunshine

and sweet light rain
Take the heavy burden

and ghastly pain

A plea during extreme adversity

 

© 5 years ago, Melva Davids   

What Really Matters Is Your Grace

I tend to ponder and analyze the meaning of men
At lightning pace I’d tried to keep up with the race
But whenever I stumble and nothing makes sense
I’d turn to what really mattered, your wisdom and grace

My greatest fear when’er I seek tides of silk
Where material possessions are the pleasures of sin
I may get all wallowed in this quagmire of greed
Losing sight of what matters, your abundant grace

At times I get side-tracked all wrapped up in self
My shadowy past blocks the light to your path
I’d stumble in darkness until your tender arms reach
Snatch me from those shadows into your fullness of grace

What doth it profit to have accolades of men
When my brother is drowning in hunger and pain?
What doth it matter if I’ve got riches untold
If I stumble and fall from your amazing love?

My fervent prayer as I tread waves of time
Is to stay on this course of power and truth
Your words are my stronghold, when life falls apart
So guide me each day as I seek your true grace.

 

A little of everything as I give Him the praise this morning. He is truly amazing © 5 years ago, Melva Davids  

My Ever Present Help

My mountain top experiences were your divine course
On life’s road I trod, not knowing where I was going
Down in the valley low the many rivers I’d cross
I knew you were standing close, a life line you’d toss

My desert experiences you carried me through
Life changing decisions, you showed me what to do
When tempted or tried your tender voice I’d hear
Those words were my anchor in moments of fear

As I face my new battles being tossed to and fro
Your Holy Spirit is guiding the way I should go
So I place all my sins, all my sorrows and pain
Into your healing  hands so you’ll restore me again

(My prayer and praise this morning).

4th prompt Faith © 5 years ago, Melva Davids

Thy Will

In solace he reaches hiding his cares
Your words he reads to comfort his fears
No money, no cure, his reality lies bare
death’s arrow shunted but for a day.

He knows not the Healer whose power still stands
Dear Father I come on bending knees to this altar
I crave wisdom and healing through your anointed words
So I beg first forgiveness for all my many faults.
Remove clouds of doubts so to his soul I can speak.

Strengthen his hearts, you know all his needs.
Restore health and harmony in body, mind and soul
Rekindle his will, his family console so agonizing silence

who in quandary looks on, can replace nothingness
with hope when hopelessness calls

Be physician, provider and ultimate friend
Let thy will be done, Lord let each seek your face
The cancer is yours let your miracle be seen
Speak to his heart so he finds peace within every thought.
Holy Spirit sweet love divine please be his strength.

Father, I have pleaded, placed this case at the cross
The decision is yours, see this battle through.
We are but your hand-made, You know our fate
Let your will be done, Lord as I honor your name

Amen

© 5 years ago, Melva Davids  

Your Holy Name

In awe I stand
seeking
Longing to speak
crying
Conscious of the power
in your name

God of mercy
and compassion
In pain I kneel
pleading
Calling on you
wanting
Anointing through
your holy words

Abba, my Father,
HOLY lamb;
hallowed be thy name
As I partake
in life’s cruel game
I’ll anchor assured
in you.

Hallowed be thy name © 5 years ago, Melva Davids  

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The Indian Ocean Meets the Atlantic Ocean

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487The Indian Ocean Meets the Atlantic Ocean

 

As I stood on the cliffs of the Feather-bed Reserve in South Africa gazing out to where these two massive bodies of water met, my adrenaline erupted. The exhilaration of braving and conquering my phobia for height was intensified by the sheer bliss of the natural piece of artwork seen from behind my lens. This is an artist’s paradise, I thought to myself. The treacherous pathway to the Feather-bed Lake lay ominously below as the oceans greeted each other.

 

The Sea Calls Me

Waves beating haste to the ebb of the flow
washed by moonlight in night’s shadow glow
With open arms sea languished bare
bathed in lovers’ glare; invited me to its lair

Locks glistening shadows of golden rays
Her shimmering coat of scales my pulse relayed
‘Come to me,’ the voice cajoled as I widely blinked;
voluptuous lines curving waist-ward I drank in

Waves met me knee deep before my head could think.
What creature screams my name and whose pale eyes blink?
Her alluring smile and cooing voice propelled me forward
at the edge of the board walk; back arches shoreward

Enraptured I tried to touch silk-cushy brown
but she, her honey coated curved wet lips dove down
her magnetic eyes drew imprint on foggy brain
I watched as silvery blue tail cut through like glossy rain

Was she in flight or was she willing me on?
my heart says yes; let go, my brain felt hollow
I cannot swim my mind in hindsight stated
In moon-dust shaking I stood my ground and waited

She screamed my name, I was sure I heard her voice
deep down below where sea-wind broke the noise
Adrift upon the plank I await her vision in vain
My wish to see my dream alive remained

For days I waited til my eyes grew dim
I dared not search as surely I couldn’t swim
my legs I willed to take me home once more
then awoke to find my love my touch ignored.

Melva Davids

 

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Dance With Me – Melva Davids

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Dance With Me

Cameroon Wedding in South Carolina: Tribute to Laurent and Sylvie

 

The first time we danced
was the night you proposed
We knew there and then
our destiny was settled
Our feet intertwined
as we grooved toe to toe
There we bumped and wiggled
to the slide and twist
Then we both shimmied
down to the floor.

 

Our eyes talked then
our lips made a pact
The longing was sealed
in your long embrace.
Tonight my love
we have tied the knot,
Just dance with me.

 

Dance to the rhythm of our hearts
as we did that night
The floor is waiting,
they are playing our song.
Come let us groove
till they dim those lights
Let us create new memories
through this special dance.

 

Hold me closer, let us sway
in unison to each waltz
As we synchronize each step
our bodies become one
The symbol of the journey
we have begun.

 

Dance with me my love,
let us rehearse each move
Hurry the night on
till our last guest is gone
Then we will dance
to our own eternal song
for the rest of our lifetime,
just dance with me.

Melva P. Davids  2008

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Let There Be Light

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Let There Be Light

 

South African Sun
blazes watery trail
through shimmery glaze
of light erasing darkness.

 

Melva Davids

 

The Light Concept of God

Today’s sermon on ‘God is Light,’ courtesy of ‘International Central Gospel Church’ spoke to my heart. This post will review the sermon as basis for my own self process. I will chronicle my notes on the sermon.
Thought 1: God is Absolute Light
As expounded based on 1 John 1:5, God is absolute light with no darkness. The verse predisposes that there is absolute light and absolute darkness. The concept of God as light was established in Genesis 1:3-5, “Let there be Light and there was Light.” Light was spoken into being by God who then separated the light from the darkness and called the light day and the darkness night.
Since light proceeds from the word of God then if God speaks to the mind or the heart, light will enter. God’s word is knowledge which is another light concept. Ignorance may be seen as synonymous to darkness and knowledge, light. God’s words bring us into goodness and knowledge so in Genesis God, having separated the darkness from the light saw that ‘it was good.’ The thought then is that light should be separated from darkness as he symbolically divided light from darkness since creation.
Thought 2: Jesus is the Light of the World
Jesus declared that ‘I am the light of the world’ among other representations of his divinity. The light has transcended to the Son and Redeemer who was from the beginning and forever will be. Christ therefore comes to “bring life more abundantly,” not death. Light supports and represents life while darkness supports and represents destruction and death. From a biblical perspective, the concept of light may therefore be viewed as being synonymous to life and knowledge. Therefore, actions that seek to destroy life or hide or misrepresent truth or knowledge may be perceived as being not of the light but of the darkness. God is light and Jesus is the way to light, life, truth, love and all that is good (The Gospels).
Thought 3: We are the Light of the World
Those who believe and receive the word through Jesus are also called children of the light in the same way those who seek darkness are children of darkness. As stated in the gospel, “you are the light of the world…. let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works and glorify thy Father who is in Heaven.”
Children of the light should choose good over evil or light over darkness in all things. The light of the world should be like ‘a city set upon a hill that cannot be hid.’ Light provides revelation of God to the world. Ignorance should not be an option for the believer. The more intense the light, the less is the darkness. As stated by the Minister, if something is not lined up with the truth of God, it is of darkness or a lie. As God is light, Christ is light and the children of God are the light of the world representing their creator and redeemer who personify light.
Luke 8:16 admonishes that we should not put our light under the bushel, basket or mat but on a lamp stand so it can shine. The bushel, a vessel used to establish a standard measure adds a bit more to the idea of the light going out because it is hidden. It augurs that if the light is put under the measure approved by the world, the light can suffocate and eventually go out. The world should not dictate what the light should be or do because the children of light are the God given light of the world who should spread their lights into the dark areas of this world.
How can we shine our light in a world without getting dizzy by the world’s distractions? Today we can choose to be destructive towards self and others or live in darkness or we can choose to do good and live as children of the light with our light shining from the lamp stand of our hearts. Like the Psalmist we can let God’s words be a light unto our paths or we can choose to be dazzled and live in spiritual darkness. Do we choose darkness which brings hurt and death or do we choose life?
I pray my little self indulgence may ignite the light in someone today, Amen.
https://wordpress.com/post/lampstand2016.wordpress.com/2

 

Language Matters: Languages in Contemporary Anglophone Caribbean Societies

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Ancestral Whispering;
soul of my identity,
blueprint of my history
mother tongue speaks.
By
Melva P. Davids
Language, a perceived mundane, taken for granted activity is much more than it is made out to be in many linguistic spaces. In reality, language is an active dynamic entity that is particular to the human species and affects almost every aspect of life itself. In essence, in the social sphere, language assumes the function that water or air provides in the physical world. As such, a clear infrastructural framework to govern this major tool of communication and expression is integral to social coherence, social equity and stability. In the same way that clear policies and practices are necessary to preserve and dispense water to all living organisms in order to sustain and perpetuate life, clear language policies and infrastructures should precede any attempt to organize communities for social living and in effect economic and social progress. However, the reality of many nations faced with chronic economic challenges is that the centrality of clear language infrastructure to economic development, social advancement and social unity is often sidelined in order to focus on fixing the economy or fixing crime with actions and policies that are tangible and measurable; albeit for short term results. Indeed, language as a social construct is an intangible wealth of every society and unless a systemic approach is applied to economic and social planning, language planning as the nucleus to social and economic progress will remain an oversight in many post colonial societies.
The language dynamics of many contemporary Anglophone Caribbean nations with a colonial past have evolved over time to represent a source of social divide where the legacy of the hegemonic relationship between the language of conquest and the languages of contact established on the sugar plantations and in the plantation houses is now mirrored in the social fabric of these societies. Language is still a contested field in many such nations in a linguistic landscape with Standard English the perceived language of prestige linked to wealth, power and or level of education on the one hand is being pitted against the perceived inferior Creole languages which are linked to poverty, disenfranchisement and illiteracy. Despite the impact of globalization and technology that heralded the access to tools of communication in any language upon demand; and despite a shift from monolingual focus to multilingualism on the global linguistic stage, the mindset of many in the region including Creole speakers is that English is the only language of these nations. Any utterance of the means of communication used in informal relationships is perceived as a failed attempt at speaking English.
Many contemporary Caribbean linguists have spent most of their lifetime studying these
dialects and using international standards to establish that Creole languages have distinct structures in terms of phonetics, phonology, morphology, syntax, semantics and pragmatics that make them legitimate languages in their own rights despite an English lexicon base. In the case of Jamaica, the Cassidy Le Page analysis of the Creole Language first presented in 1959 was further developed at the Jamaica Language Unit (JLU) located on the Mona Campus of the University of the West Indies to establish a clear writing system for the Jamaican Creole. This system amplifies the African influence of an English based language vocabulary that allows the Creole speaker a standardized way to write the language he speaks. This achievement serves as an important step to learning other languages including English. The psychosocial benefit of understanding the history encoded in the language that has evolved into Jamaican Creole is far reaching for the average user who now has the tool to immortalize his utterances on a page or screen.
In the case of the Francophone Caribbean islands such as Haiti the situation is more reassuring. French Creole has long been legitimized alongside formal French as a national language. In the case of the Eastern Caribbean, those ‘English-speaking’ islands such as Dominica and St. Lucia that are close to French speaking islands do have the infrastructural policies necessary to frame an authentic cultural identity and allow easy communication and links with their neighbors. For example, Dominica and St. Lucia have established national language policies to give status to the mother language of the masses and the celebration of events such as International Creole Month and Day during October is a yearly ritual that attracts worldwide participation and impact the economy of these countries in tangible ways. Are the islands in the English speaking Caribbean who hold dearly to the monolingual vestige of their colonial identity missing out on the important lessons demonstrated in the French and Spanish speaking territories? In these territories, formal and indigenous languages thrive alongside formal European languages in clearly defined language spaces and functions, so what of the Anglophone Caribbean region especially a culturally distinct country such as Jamaica? Suppose a systemic approach to language planning was applied at the onset of political independence in Anglophone territories including Jamaica, how would these countries have benefited? Here, a systemic approach refers to the recognition that the social world is a living entity where every aspect is linked and both the physical and the social worlds are interdependent in order to effect a fully functioning whole or in this case society. Language as a core variable in this relationship is what sustains the social world and so should be fully aligned to all aspects of planning. What then is language? Language may be defined here, as all the signs, symbols, gestures, sounds, codes that serve to communicate meaning among people. Therefore, we are considering language as a natural complex human experience or construct that emerges where people exist or settle. We are not concerned with artificial language associated with technology or arbitrary meaningful sounds or gestures of some animals.
A fully functioning human needs language to think, solve problems, express emotions and relate to others in a coherent and cohesive way. Therefore, it is important to cultural identity and self identity. Professor Rex Nettleford, Jamaican scholar, termed this human experience of self-worth as the feeling of “smaddiness” using the Jamaican vernacular. At the micro-level, holistic construction of one’s self definition is wrapped up in how language is managed at the macro level of society. How language is managed also informs pedagogical decisions and possibilities within the education system. The link between language, communication, education, culture and self identity is binding. Lev Vygotsky, famous Russian Psychologist identifies language as a key cultural tool that learners use to think and express learning before internalizing thoughts or ideas. Language is therefore important to sense-making in the social and physical world. Jean Piaget, Swiss biologist and cognitive theorist argues that children use language as internal thoughts in mental schemata to understand and reconstruct meaning in their world through processes of accommodation and assimilation.
Clearly, the psychological value of having distinct linguistic identities to achieve high self efficacy in learning situations is as important to the individual as the need for policies to legitimize the mother language of the masses in order to concretize a wholesome cultural identity. In the case of Jamaica, alongside political and denominational affiliations, the legitimacy of the social language of over 97% of the population is still a source of bitter discourse aligned to social and power differentials despite inroads into how the native language is portrayed in the media and popular culture. The ubiquitous natural use of Jamaican Creole in social media setting seems to have added momentum to the acceptance of the native language, especially among the youth population. As such, the furore about the poor achievements of Anglophone Caribbean students in the 2012 sitting of the English A Caribbean Examination may well be as a result of a combination of students over exposure and use of the native language in online print environment where no clear distinction is made when writing English versus Creole.
Traditionally, Jamaican Creole was an oral language reflected in the music and roots theater of the masses. Poems written by cultural icon, the Honorable Louis Bennett-Coverly using the basolect or mesolect forms of Jamaican Creole as well as other literature following in similar strides were mostly performed orally or listened to, thus the written form of the language had no general visible space for active writers prior to these writings and the advent of social media. If the average Jamaican is processing English and Creole in the same mental space, could this be the needed trigger for a clear public distinction to be made between both means of communication? Should appropriate national policies and actions take precedence over economic policies so as to guide how educators and citizens meet, treat and process language?
A recent reflection activity among tertiary first year students revealed that many from Creole-speaking environments found out through traumatic experiences that the home language and school languages were different and Creole speakers were ‘talking badly’ when they used their first language. The delicate self efficacy of these young adults that were thwarted since Primary School still prevented them from willingly participating in formal discussions where English is used in a sustained manner. Some students stated that they only used English whenever they had to write while others stated that they ‘tried’ to use English if they had to. use it. Is this a healthy perception or attitude towards any language especially one that is etched in the personal history and identity of these users? Other students who were from Creole-speaking background attributed their fairly satisfactory competence in using English to their High School experiences where their peers were mainly from English-speaking backgrounds. What conclusions can be drawn from these situations. First of all, to learn a second language one has to be immersed in a speech environment where the language is used naturally. The Traditional High Schools are most likely to first and foremost attract students from middle class families whose children had gone through private Preparatory Schools where English is the dominant language. Students from the public Primary Schools who are accepted in Traditional High Schools are most likely from lower middle class or upper lower class families who have some exposure to a mesolect form of the language. In contrast, most students who end up in Non-traditional High Schools, especially Junior High or All-age schools are from lower class Creole-speaking background and as such the school environment would replicate the home as a Creole-speaking environment.
Interestingly, over the last decade many Non-traditional schools have made strides academically in some areas and are therefore becoming more attractive to local parents. This paradigm shift however can be more far reaching if a National Language Policy were to be put in place to advise the nature of the Language Program that best fits Traditional High schools where opportunities for using and hearing the second language exist naturally. This curriculum would be markedly be in contrast to a program befitting the nature of the Creole speaking culture and makeup of the Non -traditional High School environment. This inequity begs the question, should all Jamaican schools be taught voice and speech or phonetic skills using the International Phonetic System of pronunciation? Should they meet the history of English and Creole as part and parcel of language instruction? With clear language infrastructure, pedagogical soundness and vision, these would be redundant questions.
From the foregoing discussion, it clear that language has power to divide or to unify people. It can empower or disenfranchise individuals or groups. It can oppress, suppress or liberate people. It can be subversive or it can be enlightening or enabling. The extent to which language unifies, empowers, liberates, enlightens or enables is largely dependent on the social infrastructures that individual governments put in place through policies and actions that are linked to long term economic and social goals. Since Language planning is central to social and economic development; legitimizing a dominant language that is linked to power and prestige without equal recognition for the language lived by the majority of the population on a daily basis is tantamount to excluding the majority of that population from participating in decisions that immediately affect them. This act also denies them of a clear language framework necessary to learn a second or third language. As expressed earlier, the French and Spanish speaking territories have put the necessary infrastructure in place to create a healthy attitude towards learning and using language as a living entity necessary to communicate and express human experiences.
January 3, 2013