For spirits rare, a vessel rare
Chosen one, chosen for the Heir!
He shielded you from Adam’s stain
Eve’s gain he made you to disdain
Loving mother, hear this misery
Oh Immaculate heart carry
Our sincere confession of faith
To Jesus, even just a wraith
(c) nyonglema
PS: This is part of a longer prayer to be released in time for the Assumption 😉
Tag Archives: God
Literal questions idiots literally ask
Is Schrödinger’s cat dead and alive? Does evolution explain the start of life? Can naturals make 2 + 2 five, Or bacteria make a metal fife? Is it safe to go piñata with a hive, Or ignore and let a fungal infection thrive? Can a human claim to have dog feelings? Or the rind of oranges be potato peelings? Can a wheat plant bear maize seedlings In Antarctica, Iceland or the Straits of Bering? But there is dumber yet: Who sowed the farmer? Who sewed the seamstress? Who baked the baker? Who raked the gardener? Who fried the chef? Who dyed the stylist? Who fabricated the engineer? Who programmed the programmer? And the worst of all: Who created God? (c) nyonglema
Going up
Higher he soars, the one who calls us to more Eyes stare, the clouds do pirouettes A silhouette against the advancing sky Some cry distraught at it happening again: What's to gain if the Master disappears? Memories of the first mass Bread broken, wine shared Hope poured out, on sandy stone On a hill gasping with bare bones Break oh break, hard heart of mine As our Lord leaves to another sublime clime. Oh wake, oh wake hard heart of mine The promises form out of the clay Of the fabric of time before me Hope covers my shivering body In quotes of all that He uncovered From our knowledge new discovered What wisdom we missed, Isaiah! For now, a silhouette against the advancing sky He goes before us as advocate: He lives. (c) nyonglema
Never Stop
Lord, You never stop. You pour out blessings without measure To soothe my heart and heal hope's rasure The blessings just flow From icy Everest to shimmering sea, With fireflies lighting the shore with glee My ways You straighten Undeserved, even when all seems lost You're flicker to sun to defeat the frost Lord You never stop, For great are Your ways to those who love To those who trust, and put none above. Lord You never stop, You seek the single, you search the void Ninety nine wait till one hears Your voice Lord You never stop, You call sinners to the feast beyond Where mercy offered makes guilt abscond Lord please never stop, My only hope, my only treasure My life and love, Your Word my pleasure. (c) nyonglema
Original Sin
That hated smell of freshly applied disinfectant
Fills echoey white corridors, silent and patient:
Peacefulness is a child's smile, but there's no peace
In the maternity as new Potential wormholes through
Worlds, adding to the stench of good with a bad face
That fills the hitherto silent and patient: kill germs, smell
Bad; bring hope, sound sharp-metal-on-sheet-metal bad.
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Let the waters come together to a single mass
Bringing forth creatures to writhe and play
Let the waters let appear many a land mass,
Bringing forth creatures of varied colours and grade
Let the Trinity sweeping over the water mass,
In mud and rib, bring forth one and his half,
For both to garden and care, with children had,
To fill the garden and make worlds anew.
BUT alas the urge to know the mastercraft
That built such beauty with effortless class appeals
To Eve, and the master's oversight snakes in
To taunt his bride: to feed off fester:
Our intellect our science have surpassed
Creation. We know the why, how, where what.
The tides, the stars, the Möbius strip
Dalton's and Kant's intellectual flares,
The PC, Android and the Metaverse
Surpass creation's greatest feats. We now
Should know ...no... decide evil from good.
Tempting fruit and two bites later
Itchy figs were clothes in spite of better
"Where you are?" got an action as answer
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The creatures brought forth in watery masses
Jump to catch fleeing breath when water elapses.
The creatures brought forth by the land masses,
Crash or gulp watery death when the earth lapses
And Man for all the science and mental gymnastics
Is but a fleeting flutter failing without the apses.
(c) nyonglema
Infinite Faith
- I - Thank God! Quod erat demonstratum! What god do you speak of? Shouldn't you be focused on our victory? We've finished the problem! Yup, we did it. Leave fiction out of it. Wait. God's fiction to you? I don't believe in ancient fairytales, So, god is just some made up fable. My five senses haven't sensed And I personally haven't experimented! - II - Ok. Let's think about it Do you see this tripped up 8 here? Yeah, infinity. What about it? What number then is infinity? Come on silly! It's not really a number But have your senses sensed it? Well science shows that it's true! Like when science showed the Earth Was like a pancake with dangerous edges? Well that was still you "God people"! Well Thales for one, and more Held this with proof, and debates Flourished. Earth indeed's spherical Just like we know infinity today. To how many digits? - III - And have you tasted your belief? What do you mean? The belief that you're correct, The axiom that absence of proof Yields proof of the absence? No the onus of proof is on you! So do you think any number Stands taller than infinity ever? Of course not! That's the limit Nothing ever gets there, but slowly The numbers ride higher and higher And that's where the end would be. So is it or is it not one of them? Is it real, imaginary or other? Silly you. Of course not! But it is the limit of big numbers? Yes. Infinity represents going Higher but never ever stopping. - IV - Then infinity is a god. What? You had to go there! Well it is a god right? Something nobody's seen Nobody knows quite for sure How big or how small, But just that it exists Beyond our comprehension We can calculate it We can... To how many decimal places? Can we experience it? Or can we find experiences That point to it? Now you're talking in circles To pull superstition out of the hat. Well you believe in infinity Which you've never seen Outside a Maths book or class So there are many infinities Pervading the fabric of the Universe, and the supreme of All those infinities, is God. Nonsense! Nonsense... I don't believe in ancient fairytales, So, god is just some made up fable. My five senses haven't sensed And I personally haven't experimented! Yet you believe modern human tales, Where god is a fable, but infinity is real Though no sense has come close To making you personally experience it. (c) nyonglema
Walk on Water
The lessons of the gears that power the universe Pour forth in ambitious drips into a bowl To build an ocean from simple watery smears. From Egypt slavery one was chosen to show the signs, And staff and cloak he led the scowling whole, Across the river; he parted it to stay dry from brine. Before reward for courage to preach against the abhorrent, The prophet chanced upon the Jordan's deadly bowl, And with his student, parted it for dread of its current. But when the promise long foretold at last came to pass God Himself, didn't take a staff, or cloak, But let the water be, and showed His friends His glory. (c) nyonglema
Clean fire place
The fire just went out in the hearth, As the pot, cold stares out the hut door. The wood burnt, yet nothing anymore Can tell the story of the flames it bore. Clean out the dust, clean it out! Our God is an awesome God who loves to see Cleanliness in everything! Clean quickly For Him to see how clean our feat Even the darkened soot mud walls Seem to cower and hide, lest one notices That they witnessed the fire, that pieces Of history reside in their crevices As webs dangle from the bamboo overhead, Darkened by that fire, slowly swaying In the windless silence of the day greying. The cold pot silently stares out the door. What pain put out the fire in the hearth? What self-glorification deceives in aspect, Forcing cleanliness, not as one would expect By seeing the ashes, picturing insects Dancing in the flames that made them Smoke rising, lighting the walls, A cacophony of color, noise, mayhem Under the metal pot enthralled. What pain put out the fire in the heart? To deny the fire once there, to deny ashes, A mark of humus in the very code of DNA, A hot pot changing the fruits of the day, Seeing God not in our earthly feats But directing our feet along His own way? What pain hides the fire from the heart? Lift the wood and live again, light a new flame Light a new flame, and touch the ash. (c) nyonglema
No god ?
The multiverse expands beyond human imagination, The monoverse as well, spreading in every direction. Are we alone? Was mars ours before? The questions stomp on Einstein's ant brain Yet others gnaw at its toe nails, as if To mock at greatness, as if they could win all. Yes, others study humbly and can tell what destruction 80kg of weird humongous monstrosity can action In their ant-ly lives. Those gnawing think 80kg, 50, 20kg are all the same. Is lack of knowledge about something, proof That all answers are equally possibly true? Is black dark grey and white a lighter black? Is killing 10 people same as 5 million lives, Or is starving an infant in a death camp The same as denying a meal to a migrant? Is failing to save the planet, the same as Failing to save your neighbor's house from flames? Does the decapitation by one justify the inquisition? Or does the inquisitor's evil justify decapitation? Does the guillotine prove fickle humanity, Or does it show the eternity of revolution? Are all theories of our existence valid, In spite of the contradictions beaming from them? In our quest for the mind of God, as said Albert, Can every theory explain our reality accurately? Is the addition of 2 and 2 same as 2²? Are we claiming no god based on our understanding, Or our lack of understanding of our surroundings? Are we ants that gnaw, or ones that seek to grow? (c) nyonglema
In the desert
I hear voices telling me I'm not enough. My inadequacies gang up for an intervention, And I'm the center of their morbid attention: "You are and will be found wanting." Camel skin marked the way way back. The desert stirred as "Repent" echoed along The lonely shores of the River Jordan, and throng Upon throng came to listen. I'm not there. A straight, flattened way for the Lord Was the requirement for any form of joy. Yet all I bring are curves, hills and voids, And inability to do better or more. "Before birth, before you were formed..." I've read that, but should I believe it? Definitely it was meant for some great prophet, Not me, seed on rocky soil wilting away How shall the Lord travel these traps That my hungry angry soul sets in despair? How shall he navigate a heart so in disrepair Even spiders won't build webs there? "Don't be afraid, for I am with you...." Whispers floating to my cowering ears To persuade me to cast away the fears That gang up to jail-bar my attention. With four candles burning on the wreath, And my healing heart still thinking about my fate While making the straight to welcome the babe I move to not be afraid for He is with me It's a child's craft on the potter's wheel, The trembling fingers on the archer's bow, A wrench eating at a loose nut, but I sure know That I'm not alone in fixing that manger Which for the Architect is Heaven's harbinger (c) nyonglema
waghni 