New Beginnings

Carole Stolz

22.01.2012

She saw the smoke, 

unseeing, 

like a bleeding internally,
eternally, blindingly real.

She steeled herself for the heat, 

treating her wounds already,
Steadying her racing heart, pacing her martyred soul, 

…too old for this atrociuos game.

Maiming, burning, turning, reflecting, 

not selecting but consuming, 

assuming the role of the Warlord, lording it over everything in its path.

Laughing at the pain, insane in its consumption. 

Unfeeling in its searing, stripping, raping, 

leaving a gaping space,

…laced with pain and screams and scars, 

    …dead dreams.

Sunbeams casting shafts of light. 

Draughts of night, frightening in their cold, 

sold out to warmth, alive. 

Striving to shake the wake of the wave enslaving her in a sleep of horror. 

Terror never quite departed, but newly awaking, 

shaking the sleep out, 

…keeping the fears without not within.

Begining a new day, 

…a new way, 

    …starting anew. 

Parting the dark through the sound of the lark. 

Depart the hounding, blood pounding and fright; 

…enter the day dreams and maybes and light.
Worry, strife and rope 

dispersed by 

carefree life and hope.

The old is gone, 

…see, it is all new.

New beginings come with the morning. 

The storm and mourning are over. 

Never again to be. 

…Carefree. 

    …Literally.

The Maimed Soul

Carole Stolz, 30th December 2011


(After reading Mona Krueger's book "Sage was the Perfect Shadow")


I never really saw my life as blessed,
I never learned to make my blessings count .
Nor did I ever see the deaths as scarring
- a tearing at my soul without a sound.
The passing of my brother, Dad and sister
- these scars they needed cream, massage and stretch.
They should have seen the eyes and hands of experts
instead of darkness, cover up and retch.


Coping was the strategy of choosing
With work and sport might be the monster tamed.
But none of wordly accalades and glory
Can repair a heart once through bereavement maimed.
Only One can help to cope with scarring
for in our weakness He is very strong
and He can heal the scarring that's a-pulling
be it from burns or death or other wrongs.


The fat child laughed at by her "friends" and school mates,
the boy with glasses "specky-four-eyes " named,
the one who cannot write her name or read it,
as well as all the people who are lamed
The cruelty of people has no limits.
Character doesn't count in this sick land.
Many wallow in their fears and shame and sadness,
with kindness love and hope forever banned.


The girl who, raped nightly for a "pleasure",
so young when into slavery she was sold
by men in every city on this planet
- abusing children, some just 3 years old.
What scars do they have thrust upon their bodies?
Tormenting daily nightmares scar them too.
The memories and the present merge together,
their ripped minds, going crazy, bleed anew.


Mona you have shown it in by example
- one day at a time your rule of thumb.
One day trusting wholly in your Saviour
- and one more day of pain and shame and numb.
We always want control, to know what's coming;
to understand the future, what it holds.
But God wants us to trust Him without fearing
Whilst He our inner beauty newly molds.