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RETIREMENT POEM BEEN PUT OUT TO PASTURE? By Frank Henrich August 20, 2006 One of the hardest things
For that noble soul,
Whose spirit is striving
To
teach wisdom to others
And to share new gained secrets,
Is when there are no ears to hear.
Where
have they gone?
All those so eager to learn,
Those so eager to obtain
The pearls of history
so rare.
Oh where have they gone?
For there are no ears to hear.
They say I am too old
To be of worth to them,
There are younger minds,
Better fitted teachers, yes,
To feed the
minds
Of the fine new generation.
Oh, fellow teachers of old,
Is this a stage I must
pass?
Is all my learning to lead me
To a useless life state?
Can this be true?
For there
are no ears to hear.
I believe that I know more
Than the wiz kids of today,
I have studied
years longer,
Read twice as many books,
Pondered truth with energy,
But there are no ears
to hear.
It is like standing proudly
On a high hill with a loud voice
Proclaiming great truths,
Only to hear back the echoes
In muted, sad tones,
For there are no ears to hear.
What am to do with myself?
This drive to teach and share
Still burns deeply in my mind,
I poured water on it, yes I did,
But it still burns with fury,
Longing for ears to hear.
What
am I to do with myself?
Perhaps I must stop all my learning
Of anything new that sparks,
Yes,
better to not ignite that fire
That looks for ears to hear
When there are no ears to hear.
Oh,
what am I to do?
My only fault is old age,
My mind still rings all bells,
Perhaps my body
moves
A bit slower than it did,
Oh, where are those ears to hear?
I think I see something
On the bright horizon ahead,
It is a silhouette of a man,
Who appears black on the horizon
rim
Framed by the sky's glow.
My mind feels oddly strange.
I hear a distant echo
Too soft of tone to comprehend,
But its intensity is increasing
And that man is coming closer,
Yet,
a long distance away.
My mind feels oddly strange.
I stand there in awe
As the man comes
closer,
The echo sound grows louder,
I can catch a few words,
What is happening to me?
My mind
feels oddly strange.
I stand there frozen in awe
As the black man keeps moving closer
Yes,
closer and closer.
Who is this black man whose
Image is framed by the sky?
My mind feels
oddly strange.
Go to
top of the right column →↑
(right below picture) for balance of
poem
TEACHER RETIREMENT IN A RETIREMENT POEM, LET US NOW
DO JESUS MINISTRY,
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A retired teacher feel left out to pasture as his
or her ministry is gone and they miss their the Christian ministry jobs. Retirement advise and retiement poems
can help with senior retirement understanding.
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TEACHER RETIREMENT
CAN BE DIFFICULT FOR WE OFTEN HAVE LOST OUR FOCUS ON THE REAL GOD IN OUR LIFE, OUR CREATOR GOD, TEACHING IS A WORK
NOT TO BE WORSHIPPED.
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| FRANK HENRICH WITH HIS FRIEND "ELLIE" |
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←To understand
this poem you need to start reading the poem in the left column and when you have read it completely start reading below:
(Continued from left column)
The sky has multicolor shades
Of light sunset hues,
Yes,
beautifully luminescent
As only skies can be,
There on the horizon rim
Stands this black man
With the light behind him.
He towers over me
At least 20 persons high,
Listening to the
echoing
I think if I could
Strive to comprehend the words
Then maybe I will understand.
Then all muttering stops.
The silence is eerie,
And in a voice that
Has a sharply
critical tone.
He says to me,
"Is teaching your god now?"
I am at a loss at what
to say,
Then he says to me,
"Why have you left me?"
Again I am at a loss,
Then
he says to me,
"Well, speak up, tell me!!"
What can I say?
I am vexed,
Who is this black man?
I thought, yes, I will ask him,
So I say, in a weak voice:
"Who
are you?"
He says, "You ask, who am I?
Why I am Jesus, your saviour
You committed
your life to me,
Has even that memory parted from you?
You used to be striving to serve me,
Now you are striving to teach others."
I fall to my knees,
The full impact of what I have done
Fills my body and I shake,
I whisper over and over,
"Oh Jesus, forgive me,
Have mercy
on my soul."
My head hangs low,
I do not dare to look
Up at my risen Lord.
Then a hand touches
The bottom of my chin
Raising my head up.
What my eyes see,
I find hard to describe.
The black man raises his arms
In a gesture of welcome,
The sky tones turns
to white
With a glowing, golden light.
The black man slowly turns
Yes, turns golden
in color,
And more and more glorious.
He says to me, "I forgive you.
I am your God, teaching
is not,
Find your joy in me."
I am still on my knees
As the vision before my eyes
Quickly turns back to evening.
But I am healed, and He did it,
No longer do I serve
The secular god of teaching.
No longer do I look for ears
To hear my words,
Instead I cup my
ear
Waiting for heavenly directions
On how to serve my Lord.
My frustration is turned to joy.
----------------------------------------------------------------- JESUS
MINISTRY IN A RETIREMENT POEM, YES TEACHER RETIREMENT,
←Select another poem or article from the column, click on title and read
_____________________ LET GOD'S BEAUTY SHINE ON ME, Click for poem here
WANTED BEAMS OF HOLY INSPIRATION, Click here for page
INSTRUCTIONS ON CHRISTIAN MINISTRY GIFTS, Click her for data
THEMES OF THIS PAGE ARE RETIREMENT POEM, TEACHER
RETIREMENT, JESUS MINISTRY, RETIREMENT LIVING, TIME FOR GOD
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MUSIC PROVIDED BY SUMMIT PRODUCTIONS, MODESTO CA USA
TIME FOR GOD RETIREMENT POEM, TEACHER RETIREMENT,
JESUS MINISTRY, RETIREMENT LIVING.
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All poems and/or
articles on this website are free for you to print out and use or to give to a friend. Invite a friend to view the
website! All commercial uses require copyright
permission from © 2011 Frank Henrich at frankehenrich@sbcglobal.net
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