Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: Happy (07/12/07)
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TITLE: My "Happy Cup"
By Elizabeth Baize
07/16/07 -
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I stooped to pick it up.
For I will do ‘most anything
To fill my “happy cup”.
I’ll crawl or grovel on the ground
To scrape up scraps of praise.
Or hover in a corner
Just to snatch at life’s bouquets.
A thread of laughter is a prize;
A friendly word, a boon.
I hoard them as my treasure
Hoping more are coming soon.
I always am collecting,
But my cup is never full.
The contents seem to disappear
Amidst life’s push and pull.
My cup has always had a crack;
I hold my fingers tight.
And hope one drop of happiness
Alone will last the night.
It’s true; I am a beggar.
It’s the only life I’ve known.
But yet I fear I am a slave
To this cracked cup I own.
Sometimes I wish to hurl my cup
Against the city wall
And grind the shattered fragments
Into powder as they fall.
For what have I accomplished
In these years I’ve slaved away,
Forever striving to fill up
A single cup of clay?
If I could leave it on a shelf,
Or drop it down a hole
Perhaps I’d find the happiness
That really is my goal.
But yet, I’ve always had the cup;
It is a part of me.
I wonder if it’s possible
To truly be set free.
One last resource I think I’ll try
For just the other day,
I heard that one who heals the sick
Is passing by this way.
Some say He feeds five thousand
With a few loaves and some fish.
I wonder, Can He fill my cup
To brimming as I wish?
I see Him speaking to a throng.
I’ll press close as I can.
And maybe I can find a way
To speak to this great man.
But wait! I think He’s seen me
Through the large and swarming crowd.
For He is walking toward me
Just as fast as He’s allowed.
I see compassion on His face
And somehow know at last
I’ve found the Source of Happiness
None other has surpassed.
“Please, Lord,” I know that only You
Can fill this cup of clay.
If you can use it with a crack.
It’s Yours alone today.”
His answer falls upon my ears,
“My child, I’ll fill it up.
And even run it over
Though it is a broken cup.”
And as He speaks a glorious smile
Pours joy down on me
My cup is running over
And I know that I am free.
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My cup is full and running over.
Since the Lord saved me,
I'm as happy as can be.
My cup is full and running over."
I don't know if you remember this Sunday School song, but your poem reminded me of it.
Good work.
I like the way you introduced us to the Source of Joy so prophetically and poetically.
I also like the consistency in your rhyme and meter. Well done.
Wonderful work!
The smile had fallen from her lips;
I stooped to pick it up.
and these words from the Master made me want to weep with joy:
My child, Ill fill it up.
And even run it over
Though it is a broken cup.
The ending stanza is perfect happiness. Wonderful!