On The Riddle of Life

On The Riddle of Life

As I reflect on how a life consists
Of breaths and steps throughout the days and years
And Love, though sometimes painful, yet persists
To keep us moving through our trials and tears.
The riddle vexes scientists and saints
Alike they cannot answer why we’re here
Or where we’ll go and so we all may fear
Meaningless in the picture that God paints.
But Faith and Hope and Love are gifts He gave
For use in times that cut us like a knife
Holding us aloft when there are no cures
We need not fear the darkness or the grave
And sickness though it robs us of our life
The body leaves us yet the soul endures.

--by Eric Matthew Vajentic, lovingly dedicated to the memory of my mother, Judith Ann LaPosta Vajentic.

Comments

Brian said…
Your poem reads very fluid, not strained like poetry usually does. (That’s as close as I can get to saying I like another mans poetry without crossing the heterosexual DMZ.)
I wish I had the courage to come down Saturday…I planed to, but at the last minute literally, I crawfished. Your mom is always one of the best parts of my life that I truly enjoy remembering. Wow, what a tolerant individual! Like you said, no one knows where our essence goes after death, but I do know that a small part of Judy is in my thoughts, every Sunday at noon, every fall and winter.
Ardyth Hill said…
You have honored your Mom in so many ways and your poetry continues that honoring. I did not have the privilege of knowing your Mom well, but somehow I believe we would have been friends had the miles not been so many.
I too love poetry, but could never writen as beautifully as you. You remain in my thoughts and prayers.
Anonymous said…
The picture is perfect, to go with your words. Thank you Eric.

~melis~
Anonymous said…
I saw the same rainbow and thought of your mom.

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