Cynthia Buhain-baello Poems

Could an such inadequate, ignoble vessel
Contain the wondrous depth and august meaning,
Of all her brokenness in sorrow tell
And capture thus her grief so overwhelming?
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Running, when no one is chasing,
Hiding, when no one is accusing,
Such is the torment of the mind
Where Sin and Guilt, one can find.
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We have this treasure in jars of clay
All because of His surpassing Mercy,
To show that the Power is His way
To manifest His purpose and His Glory.
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Though her child is autistic
Each cell of him, a human being
And it was really very tragic
That someone could be so hating
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In this era of gender equality
Some men of antiquated mind
Still regard with superiority
Women as objects they can find.
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Destitute minds are enslaved by desires
Bereft of the noble heights of sense
Predisposed just to give vent to passion's fire
It's a life of mere vacuous existence.
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Our life is short and fleeting
Like little flowers that fade
Fresh blooms at the morning
And at sunset, goodbyes made.
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Sadly diverted from their quest for the truth
Many turn to religion and find a very bitter fruit,
Deception blinds men that makes them fail to see
God forgives the sinner who repents, His grace is free!
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Oh, a profound subject indeed is Death!
It's nagging mystery absorbs the mind.
What will it be like when the time is set-
Will the last breath feel so cruel or kind?
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Breathe life beautiful in the storms,
Winds and rain may test your form
But keep your inner peace within
Though hard times try to hem you in,
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