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LitNet is n onafhanklike joernaal op die Internet, en word as gesamentlike onderneming deur Ligitprops 3042 BK en Media24 bedryf. |
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Completed
Martin Steele
Dear God
This is an open request
To please look down tonight
For a while longer than usual
As I wish to wave memories
And tragedies before Your eyes
So that You will see
What I see on this huge gossamer silk sheet
Floating in front of me
Like a giant movie house screen.
It wont be easy for You
But You know this is the special hour
When we children dream dreams that come true.
You will need help, as the angels are away
On other urgent needs;
That is why I have not called on them
And, whats more,
I am in a hurry before the sandman closes my eyes.
I am in a hurry.
You remember my father,
On the sixtieth floor,
That guy with the smiling face
Who always spoke with happiness in his voice
And showed compassion to those blanketed in sorrow.
You remember, dont You
As he doffed his cap at parishioners
Hurrying into your cathedral halls;
You may remember his effervescent smile;
He is the one who always bows to you
As he slowly passes your outstretched arms.
Now I am coming to my point.
It is September,
Early morn on the eleventh day,
Of a lovely month.
I knew You were there
Because the sun shone brighter
Than usual;
It seemed to be brighter
And a rainbow halo sucked the moon.
Before I go on, Dear God,
I must tell You I put plastic foam pads on my knees
And knelt for hours, last week,
Before that portrait on the wall,
And before that day.
It was ten to nine that morn. Remember?
Am I asking too much?
For You to put the world back three minutes.
Undo those minutes and throw them into space.
Pretend nothing happened and all the horrible sights
Were only a dream.
And when You undo those minutes,
(Ill never be naughty again
And if I am, take them back)
Bring me my daddy for one long more time
As those minutes become aeons
And squirm to get back into sync.
Bring him back from those two lost worlds,
Stop the timepieces in all the fields.
Soothe grandfather chimes back to their youth.
My gold bracelet is in the collection dish.
Did you see it?
In exchange, I traded all my dreams.
Ill speak nice about you,
And cancel out those lost dead gone sighs.
Ill trade You hope for hope.
And in the morning return my dreams
Long before sunrise.
What is my wish?
Im asking for soft reunions
With a sliver of time excised from life.
Im calling for episodes to be rewritten
And the stars to be repainted in metal hues.
Please see what you can do.
LATER
Thank you, Dear God
For undoing Time,
For taming those mangled minutes.
Im tingling in my shoes
And humming love songs.
Im with my Dad again
And were never going to grow old.
Will you join us?
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© Kopiereg in die ontwerp en inhoud van hierdie webruimte behoort aan LitNet, uitgesluit die kopiereg in bydraes wat berus by die outeurs wat sodanige bydraes verskaf. LitNet streef na die plasing van oorspronklike materiaal en na die oop en onbeperkte uitruil van idees en menings. Die menings van bydraers tot hierdie werftuiste is dus hul eie en weerspieël nie noodwendig die mening van die redaksie en bestuur van LitNet nie. LitNet kan ongelukkig ook nie waarborg dat hierdie diens ononderbroke of foutloos sal wees nie en gebruikers wat steun op inligting wat hier verskaf word, doen dit op hul eie risiko. Media24, M-Web, Ligitprops 3042 BK en die bestuur en redaksie van LitNet aanvaar derhalwe geen aanspreeklikheid vir enige regstreekse of onregstreekse verlies of skade wat uit sodanige bydraes of die verskaffing van hierdie diens spruit nie. LitNet is ’n onafhanklike joernaal op die Internet, en word as gesamentlike onderneming deur Ligitprops 3042 BK en Media24 bedryf.
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