Submitted by: Sherman Mobley

Category: Poetry

Odyssey Mine
Thought I would take an April stroll
To find a fresh view of breath I’d go
When walking in fields by bare feet
In the wilderness of no where or so
I can not defy wisdom of winter wheat
Whilst thru my arches it did teach
Just as far as my eyes could have seen
A blush so deep so green is serene
I glean cosmic certainty as I reach
As my mind dwelleth athwart the green meadow
Of the once frozen seed sheltered so furtively

When regarding the balances of my past
Judgments of war and peace
Allegories of an era which hast last
Will any resolve surpass such a feat
In my wits scores of times have over ripened
I am in awe as the seed why I was too so seized
No terror by night and no arrow by day
And by breath my wit never ere will conceive
Why God stored me in such a way

Discerning further than the roses bouquet
As the gale force winds do wail and soothe
When storms are serene to my will and way
I heed the deeming of thunder and lightning
So do I view truth of God’s means
True is God’s equinox balanced
And true is His celestial partitioning
Just as Jonah three nights in a whale
They give me new views
How God in His being is forever lasting
And reigns my soul so from Him I cannot veil

I sing I am free from tomorrows fear
I sing I am free of the guile of yore
A place still silent in my heart I discern
I query my mind and unearth I am undue
And these thoughts of yore till now still fetters
And plant me still further away from here

And just as the wheat under my feet
Deprived the frozen tempest and lived on
Born of single seeds it rises so sweet
And comes forth towering and strong
Not unlike the patty of rice once where
Of a terrain hence not so far gone
I pose how and where did I endure on

I hear the chirps of birds
A waiting near hence to feed
When the tops rise tall and golden haired
To craft a many new added seed
Of God’s golden topped wheat which gives
And when the harvest is gold and chaste
Just as in awe of wheat’s long thaw
And being my continuance is from God’s root
How many souls with celestial seed
When I am certain to take the till
Will perhaps I be able to feed

Our Lord is keen on into much strife
And just as certain as the Lord and with the wheat
Died and came back for all to have life
As the twelve supped He said
“This is my body broken
As you eat this bread
And drink this cup of my New Testament
And is my blood
As oft as you do this
In remembrance of me

About the author:

Sherman Mobley: These writings are dedicated to all my high school buddies who died in Vietnam and all who died in Vietnam and their families. God knows that my name should be on the wall along with theirs. I have been told that I am lucky to have survived. I don't think so. I believe that I am unlucky to have survived this time. I am a Vietnam veteran having fought in the Easter Offensive of 1971/1972. It was a horrible time. I challenge you to look it up and see what happened during this time. It is one of may unsung songs.