Morning cup of cinnamon tea,
paper, pen, in front of me. Sound
of body, sound of mind, I write
to leave behind a vision left
by God. A kind of will, a hope,
a Parentís legacy.
Timed minutes of pain, pouring rain,
laughter, glee, lost car keys, you were
born last night. Hospital gown, nurse
countdown, waiting room, beeping sounds,
grandparents, aunt, uncle, niece, all there,
a family legacy.
I dreamed cartoons, Goodnight Moon,
frogs and snails, diaper pails, Little Bo Peep.
You got bathed, lock snipped to save, made
Daddy rave, bubbled, burped, nestled
down with angels off to sleep. You
await your legacy.
Awakened from my glorious dream,
Godís voice startled , He intervened,
ďI give to you this call, my Parent,
teach him the Truthful way of life,
do not forget good news of Christ,
perfect is the sacrifice. Wouldnít
it be just right for Paradise
to be your legacy?
What be your vision for a precious
child so cherished? For where there is
no vision, My people will surely perish,
thus live a life he can observe, I would
urge you to not diverge from a gift
of Godly legacy.Ē
I felt glowed warmth of Heavenly
cloth swaddle me through the night.
Morning comes, oh, radiant Light,
now I know each special word my
pen on paper I must write, and give
to you a legacy.
But wait .. I must confess, there are
some goals Iíll not bequest, my site
for you, not happiness; if you pursue
happiness, misery is what youíll
get. I shudder to leave to you a
Iíll not ask of you to make me proud,
to meet my needs yet unfulfilled, to
live through you I dare enshroud your
quest to find Godís personal will. Iíd
fritter away perfect plans and leave
a useless legacy.
That said, Iíll sip my cup of tea,
continue to pen this legacy ...
Whatís this? My body feels quite
feeble, an alarming stench of something
evil brings wretched bile into my mouth,
crimson red seeps from my heart, chest
pierced with a jagged dart. It threatens to
drain away the legacy.
A launch by the hand of a gnarled
sneering man, ghastly boils drip pus
on a pallid face with just a trace
of the damned. He glares at my pen,
head does a freakish spin as he
taunts my legacy,
ďWhat folly my foe has coursed through
your head. Iíll fight your vision to
grievous end. World allies ready for
my command, your vision cannot defend
Education, Media, Teen-age Friends.
Down with your legacy!
ďThey will do their best, his mind infest,
youíll find the child snatched from your
breast, Be tall, be thin, always win,
we suggest success. Moneyís spent,
experiment, be like all the rest.
Woe to your legacy!
ďIn our schools thou shalt not pray,
who cares, thereís no god, anyway.
Monkeys are men, creation is mute,
there are no moral absolutes.
A supply of condoms will keep him safe.
Death is his legacy!
ďPlease donít fear, youíve got eighteen
years to muddle with his mind. Just donít
forget, wiles I possess, refined since
beginning of time. My plans, fail-safe,
eighteen years it will not take, destroy
your sniveling waif !
ďOh, sorry, did I interrupt a cup of tea?
Iíll be on my way, leave you to write
your little legacy, he-he.Ē
Pen rolls to floor, tea spills on
the paper. Prayer beckons me to
bow my head, end his awful caper.
Spirit lead, scripture read, I face
my enemy. ďDonít vie my God,
Courage is strong, Iíll write to the
finish, God will replenish my
strength. Good day to you, take your darts,
donít forget World counterparts and
never dismiss this Parentís heart,
Now equipped with mighty pen,
I write with confidence; leave rich
inheritance. Iíll teach you of
discipline, the fact of sin, honor
and trust, and how Jesus left you
a legacy of love.
I pray you will soar with eagleís
wings, know Jesus is to have
everything, His life plan is your
success. I wish for guidance clear,
as the Spirit whispers in your
ear, His legacy to you.
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