Initiation To Life
She fed you with her very being and carried you wrapped in her frail person.
For 270 days pain and discomfort followed her every step
And yet each day she lifted you swaddled inside her body.
Despite her discomfort she smiled at you whenever you kicked
she sung to you when your squirmed.
She read to you on the moonlit porch
and put you in all her future plans while watching the sun rise.
When the dam broke and the river overflowed.
As the earth quaked and shook she pushed and released you into the world.
Despite her exhaustion and all her strength slipping away
she demands to hold you in her arms and sooth your cry.
No other person on the face of this earth
could possibly deserve your loyalty more than she
who gave herself as the initiation to your life.
"Initiation To Life" Written by Mark Askew. Copyright 2024, All rights reserved
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You Will Grow
When you see that respecting others builds bridges you will one day have to cross and cross again you will grow.
When you find that humility is one of the strongest of qualities essential to our survival you will grow.
When you learn that calmness, patience and meditation acquires a tougher more resilient skin you will grow.
When you come to understand that life depends on accepting our God given roles in life you will grow.
When you see the need to read the drivers manual before taking the steering wheel you will grow.
When you're accept that free will is a gift designed to lead to making not just a good decision, but the best decision for all concerned you will grow.
And when you face your deepest fears you will realize that each time you did you emerged unscathed, you will grow.
Like the frail plant that accepts not just the sun, but the snow, the rain and weathers each storm until it becomes a wide, grand and shady tree...
Continue to weather the rain and you will always face a new day in the sun as you grow.
"You Will Grow" Written by Mark Askew. Copyright 2024, All rights reserved
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Finding Our Way Back Home
Though thousands of miles apart her children once scattered across a vast country set this date in stone and mapped out a course and one by one each daughter and son made a journey home.
They made a journey home.
Somehow by grace and providence we've arrived to fall upon the bosom of all our family.
To kiss warm faces and wipe the tears of joy from cheeks cracked and dimpled by time.
We find our way back home.
By some miracle we all stand and look around and be reminded that ours is a union resilient and empowered by years of congealed tears of joy, love and sorrow.
Braced by our own blood,
comforted by our own songs we labor to find our way home...
We find our way back home.
While we still can stand let us vow to inspire and aspire to be true to this family union not made by chance but by the love and take our stand to build a strong house.
And as we do we find our way back home.
"Finding Our Way Back Home" Written by Mark Askew. Copyright 2024, All rights reserved
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We Rise To Tell The Story
When we celebrate new life or weep over lives lost we rise and tell their story.
Their lives imprinted in our memory never to be forgotten We rise to tell their story.
When we hear their voices in our own laughter and their song becomes the music of our lives.
As we grow older and their conviction becomes that of our own We surely rise to tell their story
When we struggle to remember their words once spoken and almost forgotten and suddenly there they are stealing the scene and teaching us now what we could not understand then, we rise to tell their story.
When we visit the old homestead and smell the sweet smells, touch the textures and turn the corner to a room full of memories our hearts quicken to revive and relive moments long forgotten and in an instant their very lives are rewritten on ours we rise to tell their story.
When we celebrate new life or weep over lives lost we rise and tell their story
Their lives imprinted in our memory never to be forgotten We rise to tell their story.
When we hear their voices in our own laughter and their song becomes the music of our lives.
As we grow older and their conviction becomes that of our own We surely rise to tell their story.
When we struggle to remember their words once spoken and almost forgotten and suddenly there they are stealing the scene and teaching us now what we could not understand then we rise to tell their story.
When we visit the old homestead and smell the sweet smells, touch the textures and turn the corner to a room full of memories our hearts quicken to revive and relive moments long forgotten and in an instant their very lives are rewritten on ours we rise to tell their story.
When we are comforted by the sweet assurance that when we reach our destiny and come to rest we will neither be alone nor be forgotten
For them you, our sons and daughters, will as surely as we have, come back to this place we call home and rise to tell our story.
Because we we're born and we've been laid to rest and for all of life's celebrations in between we will once again awaken in someone's memory who found a reason to step back in time and resurrect our past, our legend, our rich heritage, and rise and tell the story.
And O what a sweet, sweet story you will have to tell.
"We Rise To Tell The Story" Written by Mark Askew. Copyright 2024, All rights reserved
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This You Gave Me
When I did not believe I could keep going, where did I get the assurance that if I did not give up, give out or give in I would succeed?
This you gave me.
When I felt an overwhelming failure,
where did I get the confidence that I had what I needed to shape bend and grow into what I have become and yet will be?
This you gave me.
When I was worn out, tired and feeble,
where did I get the motivation to stand up and open the closed door and seize another day?
This you gave me.
When courting trouble, how was I able to survive the bumps, bruises, and scars of my own doing and still somehow come out of it all a little stronger, and a little wiser?
This you gave me.
If it was not your patient words to do better next time, it was your firmness that I will have to do better now.
If it was not your allowing me to wallow in my indecision, it was you're making me think long and hard enough to make the best decision I could.
If it was not your never giving in to me, it was your never giving up on me.
And most of all no matter how often I may have tried to deny it... it is in the blood passed on to me from your womb.
So when I am crowned with silver-gray hair.
And I look upon all my progeny
And survey all that we were, are, and will be,
I well know, all of this you gave to me.
"This You Gave Me" Written by Mark Askew. Copyright 2024, All rights reserved
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These poems were written by Mark Askew, author of Fimark's Family Reunion Planner. Copyright 2024, All rights reserved
Pass on this article to everyone you know who is planning a family reunion this year. Share it with one or two people in your circle to promote family first.
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