My great-grandmother passed away in 2012. It was in the car, on the way to her funeral, that I wrote my first poem. I remember the day vividly. We were listening to a sermon on the radio when the preacher said something about “the wonderful day of his life.” Mulling those words over in my head, I thought of a sentence that rhymed with it and then shortly thereafter, the entire poem started coming together in my head. I asked my mother for a piece of paper and she passed back a green and purple notepad, in the shape of a bunny rabbit. A few minutes later I held in my hands my first poem, “That Wonderful Day of My Life.” I read it at my great-grandmother’s funeral, a day that I’ll never forget. Many more poems followed that one. As an introvert, poetry was a way that I expressed myself and my feelings. If I didn’t understand something or if I was going through a certain trial, I often times turned to the purple floral notebook and wrote a poem. Over a hundred poems filled the pages of the notebook, and another one similar to it. But I always find myself going back to that first poem. For several reasons, it holds a special place in my heart. And I have a feeling that it always will! So, without further ado: The poem that started it all.... That Wonderful Day of My Life
Once when I was young, I heard a voice so clear. It told me over an over again, my time was very near. I was so close to heaven, I could hear His voice; such a pretty sound! Those worthless straps of sin no longer kept me bound. Once when life's final battle had been fought with all I had, I then stood in judgment, but not to be judged by good or bad. I stood in front of something, so big and clothed with light. I saw that book of life, and as two angels took their flight, The doors were then opened, I watched people passing through, I heard Him call my name, and then I walked in too. I walked down those streets of gold, with beauty quite so rare. I heard those words, "My child," I turned around and saw Jesus standing there. He put His arms around me and I hugged Him very tight, Nothing had been so wonderful, than God taking my soul that night.
2 Comments
Ruth Meyer
2/8/2018 04:46:22 am
Beautiful poem, Aleigha! Reminds me of one of my own first poems, that was inspired while in our family car going to church one night. I saw a butterfly sitting on a rock when we stopped at a red light. It was such a peaceful moment. Your poem also reminds me of an in-class assignment I wrote while in community college. We were told to free-write about "the best day of your life". I could have written about my Salvation, but instead I started by writing "I just died", and proceeded to write about how it would feel to fly up to Heaven, see Jesus, and be reunited with my Papa. The teacher asked if she could borrow my paper, then gave it back to me a few days later. I hope it inspired her to dream of Heaven as her eternal Home.
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Aleigha C. Israel
2/8/2018 05:16:26 am
Ruth, what a precious story! Thank you for sharing. <3
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