Fear of people who have no fear of God.

Fear of them awind for all beauties overspread around.

Fear of the evil omens that torment and dwell in the minds

of those born without faith.

Fear of those who forget we are a masterpiece coined

by the sixth day in the divine journey of creation, and,

pleased for us, the Creator rested on the seventh one.

Fear for those who don’t believe our life on earth consists

in sacred and saint a pilgrimage that leads us, sure and safe,

to long dreamed and promised a new land.

Fear that these pure and simple truths cease to dwell

in the hearts of loving brothers and sisters.

We constitute a family and build our houses,

set up enterprises, give people jobs and hopes.

We plant vines, bridges and ports,

raise sheep and sons.

We throw up rails and roads, farms and cities,

churches, cathedrals and skyscrapers.

We spread life all around,

as if we were the owners of this world.

We plan our lives every day, for months

and years ahead, faithfully dreaming,

although fully aware that God, in spite

of having made us in his likeness,

has not given us neither eternal life,

nor his full sapience.

This is our fate, since we have been created.

However, with sole and specific a love,

and steadfast a faith,

we have been able to move forward the heavy

and hard wheels of time, towards desired

and promised a new land.

The biblical one, where honey and milk flow

and evil never finds shelter, which lies,

we firmly believe, not far beyond

the horizon of an upcoming and blissful day.

(Published in Active Muse, Varsha (summer) 2022)

http://www.activemuse.org

This poem and all others at this blog, authored by Edilson Afonso Ferreira ©

Who watches over my sleep?

Who prevents me from falling off bottomless cliffs?

Who keeps my cold and disconsolate heart beating,

after its daily hardships, usual unavoidable clashes?

Who enlightens my spirit, shielding it from the world’s rust?

Who embraces my soul, caresses and puts her to rest,

sovereign and survivor from the evil-wants of life?

Who breathes on me new life when I wake up,

ready to work, pursue treasures and fame,

play, laugh, love and sing?

It is my Lord, since the beginning of my days,

always backing me, so weak a vassal, to fulfill,

among dear fellow ones, my mission on Earth.

 

Published in Spirit Fire Review, September 2018 issue.

http://www.spiritfirereview.com

I feel I could never be related to owls, bats

and wolves, or other nocturnal animals.

I love at daylight to stare at the world face to face,

entirely visualizing all its beauties.

I love the sunrise that dispels the blackness,

exposing and revealing everything,

without shame, measure or prudence.

I love to feel that we’re on the road again,

to a future we aren’t aware of, but confident

in one Almighty who, closely and amorously,

hidden and discreet, maybe even shy,

drives and guides all of us.

I love the noise of people on streets and alleys,

corners and places,

jointly seeking to move the hard wheels of time.

I prefer love vows made clearly under the sun

than those made in the rapture of night passions.

I must confess that, on some sunny days,

and a blue sky,

I dream of riding the winds high and high,

looking for the lost realms of Paradise.

Published in the Sept-Oct. 2017 issue of Indiana Voice Journal.

http://www.indianavoicejournal.com

Published in Whispers, January 21, 2018.

http://www.whispersinthewind333.blogspot.com

Published in Tree House Arts, April 11, 2018

http://www.treehousearts.me

Published in Culture Cult Magazine, summer 2019

http://www.culturecultmagazine.com

Published in Fevers of the Mind, Sep 18, 2023

http://www.feversofthemind.com

Published in WestWard Quarterly, spring 2024

http://www.wwquarterly.com

Published in Feed the Holy, February 24, 2026.

No one knows, even dreams, what stories

have unfolded in these now empty rooms,

passions they have witnessed and secrets

forever buried within.

Comedies, dramas and tragedies, it looks

like a Broadway season, although staged

only for walls displaying their pictures,

mute and discreet spectators.

Unlike professional actors and actresses,

these ones made a point of anonymity, but

should be applauded, for they presented

their roles live, without usual rehearsals.

With magnificence, grace and proficiency,

they played so great a part, sleepless,

day after day, as well indeed, as any of us.

Published in Creative Talents Unleashed, July 22, 2017, Featured Writer.

http://www.creativetalentsunleashed.com.

 

 

There is a voice that never stops speaking,

no one hears it, but me.

It talks to me wherever I am,

but at the solitude of night and alone in my room,

it is better heard.

Never ceases to say there has been an angel,

the special envoy of our Lord, always protecting

and looking after me, since I was a child.

Every year I live,

I am learning more and more to understand

and decipher all messages passed to me.

The voice says that my mission still persists

and I have all the means to accomplish it.

It says that past misdeeds, stumbles and tumbles

have happened for nothing more than to give me

all strength and confidence I am now able to.

So I believe and cannot doubt anymore.

The mission I can never fail is the simplest

a creature must fulfill for his Creator, that of,

always and everywhere,

praising Him.

 

Published in Spirit Fire Review, August 2017 issue.

http://www.spiritfirereview.com.

Man that I have born, member

of our common human race

and tied to an expiration date,

unknown but taken for granted

to all of us, I can’t live otherwise,

but in a great hurry.

I can’t wake every day and live as if I were

an old English Lord, boasting a politeness

and a selfness I’m never able or capable of.

I like to be faithful to whom and what I am,

the heir of poor and suffering forefathers,

just this, nothing more.

No one must expect great deeds, much less

memorable feats, for I didn’t arrive for this.

Indeed a son of God, but He or His Angels

didn’t bequeath me other powers besides

wide friendship and some love to my equals.

Comrade with much pride for brothers and

sisters, I wish to share efforts in moving the hard

and heavy wheels of time, towards sacred and

promised a new land, towards which, I believe,

we are journeying.

 

This poem and all others at this blog, authored by Edilson Afonso Ferreira ®

I have a past that it is only mine

and no one else’s.

They have no notion of my misdeeds,

even the many sins I have perpetrated in it.

Now I know that those grievous faults

surely have been forgotten and forgiven

exclusively and solely by God’s mercy.

My past failures have perfected my life,

helping to forge the man I am nowadays,

one who learned from his mistakes and,

like an ancient phoenix,

has been reborn from his ashes.

May I show all my gratitude to this world,

doing all the good I can to my fellow ones, yet

forgiving them, as I have been forgiven.

 

Published in Spirit Fire Review, issue 10, June 2017.

http://www.spiritfirereview.com