a poem on easter day

Obstacles are those frightful things you see when you take your eyes off your goal.
- Henry Ford

Happy Easter!! My day was just fantastic. It kicked off with one of the more eventful masses I've ever attended (people fainting, lemming-like confusion, hour-long search for boyfriend who was stuck on the other side of the church, the sign of peace being sent via text, stories of people getting locked in bathrooms, etc.). At home, we had a most awesome meal of empanadas, plantains, rice, beans, and soup. Then we divvied up Easter chocolates (peanut butter and chocolate could quite possibly be the most perfect edible match ever). And then we napped!! When we got up, there were movies to watch, Internet to surf, singing to be done, more things to eat, and time to chill.

Faith, family, food, and fun - Easter and alliteration, all wrapped up in one =)

Now to transition to some writing updates...I recently entered yet another writing competition, this time for poetry, sponsored by the Utmost Christian Writers Foundation.

The winning results were posted earlier today. I didn't win.

How fitting, right, that I should find out I didn't win any prizes in a Christian poetry contest on none other than Easter Day =P

While I can't quite see what was so amazing about the poems that did win, I will acknowledge an amount of bias on my part, and let you be the judge. Check out the winners here.

And now check out what I entered. Let me know what you think!!

And If Sleep Should Come

By: Melissa C. Navia

The sun tiptoed in, one morning long ago
Only to find me, young and curious, hunched over an antique, wooden desk
Writing and dreaming, thinking and plotting, stressing and striving
About things I wanted to do, places I had to go, and people I was certain I needed to meet
So on I trudged, with a mad pursuit, as the sun settled in
To watch me in my youthful craze, all excited in a cloud of work and haze
Content to madden me with its warm embrace and soft, yellow glow
Go away, I implored, all too aware of its oppressive gaze
But stay it did, and my eyes began to wander, my pen began to falter
As I looked out the beckoning window to see the people below
Talking and laughing, playing and dancing, strolling and smiling
How I would like to dance, I thought, feeling my resolve weaken
So I snapped up my pen and shut the shade
The sun’s touch quickly starting to fade
Yes, dance I would, until my feet were sore
If only it meant I could work some more!

One day, not long after, I left my work chambers
Armed with my papers, my books, years of work, and the best of intentions
I swung open the front door, stepped out onto the pavement, and began the arduous climb
Up roads and dark alleys, through canyons and the loneliest of earth’s valleys
The sun, too, was there, as I knew it would be, watching and waiting
Just watching and waiting
But pay attention I couldn’t, because people, the masses, the many soon appeared
Cheering and smiling with eyes wide and ears shut, hands clapping, gums flapping
It must be my books, my papers, I concluded, the work done in those years all secluded
And I cannot deny, that a wide grin appeared on my face
Validation, success! I thought, overcome with the sudden desire to rest
Tugging at my tired feet, nipping and scraping, my chest left heavy and oppressed
No! No, I fought back and shook the pestering feeling away
Roads still left to cross—things to do!—no time to waste, not on this or any other day

And with that, the work refused to cease, the frenzy only worsened
Days turned to nights; minutes rolled on, and the hours tumbled with them
Paths untouched, I would clear; earth untouched, I would claim
Buried ruins, I would discover; and for more than this, I would win fame
Endure, urged unseen voices, as I stumbled in the heat, with blistered, wounded feet
And the burdensome sun looked on, brutal and ominous where it hung
Keep going, came the whispers, keep working and cursing, reaching and pursuing
But my head began to nod amidst the prodding and the poking, signs I was subduing
And if sleep should come? asked a man, a traveler I had not seen before
But it never does! was my frenzied response, as my fists dug into the earthen floor
But if it did? he gently persisted, reaching down to pick up my overburdened sack
I would sleep, I whispered, as the land of endless promises—and things to do!—went black

And with that I fell
In a weightless, worry-free spell
Into a deep and endless embrace
Of light, of warmth, of rest, of some strange and awesome grace

What seemed a lifetime later, I sensed the silence of my room
In the stillness I waited, unsure and hesitant, but wonderfully relieved
Feeling that my books and work and wild notions no longer, somehow, burdened me
And then my eyelids fluttered and soon began to open
My conscience filled with light, rendering the shadow, in my head, irrelevant and broken
Was this a dream? I gasped, as I beheld my beckoning window overlooking my own desk
My achievements on the wall, my papers fluttering in the breeze, my silver pen glistening
As the sun filtered in, its warm caress illuminating all, even my newly humbled face
But a dream it could not be, because I had yet to sleep
I mused, as I stretched and skipped—yes skipped!—to fling open the window
And as expected, by some ancient premonition, I saw the traveler I had seen once before
Nodding his head with assurance that I had plenty of years left to do and create and explore
But now it was time to rest, to take better care of nothing and no one else but me
Now it was time to sleep, and with that I had nothing left to do but breathe, smile, and agree