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(25-02-1967 / Springs, South Africa)

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When at times I hear the sad songs of life

She always said that life is a song
and sometimes it’s a sad song
but most of the time sometimes it’s a glad song.

She did always see to it
that we went to church on Sundays,
rarely or ever had the hart
she did go to church
but I do believe that she did believe
and on the occasions that she did drink past herself
she did go and sit in the back of the church
and I knew that she was there.

The tears of regret did stain her dress
and her sobs went right through the church
but then I was ashamed of her
and I wanted her to go home

and when she got to her feet and stumbled to the front
in an answer to the invitation for prayer,
I did turn my face away in shame,
as she was my embarrassment,
as tomorrow the world would despise us again
and I wanted to deny that I do know her.

Today, almost forty years later
I do understand people like her
and I regret the way that I did feel
as I now know life itself can be the enemy
and it do right its own private songs
only matters to the one that hears it.

Hers life was such a sad song
at time she could only hear the sad in it
sometimes when I do hear the sad songs of life
I do want to shed a tear of sorrow for both of us
when my mind wanders back
to the lady in the back of the church,
the one that came to ask for mercy

but when I fall into melancholy
I know that she knew
that the only defence against life’s troubles
is giving them over to the Lord.

Submitted: Thursday, December 05, 2013
Edited: Thursday, December 05, 2013


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