What if God…

What if God didn’t bring my plans to pass?

If, instead of first, I came in last.

If, instead of riches, I suffered lack.

Would I doubt my God

and turn my back?

If my best friend died, if I was attacked,

and someone cruelly turned their back,

would I blame the Lord? Would I shrink away,

turning my face from the light of day?

Would I shout, “Not fair!” And scream and cry?

Cross my heart and hope to die?

Stop my prayers, and brood and groan?

Would I really think: better off alone?

What if God stayed true, as I went astray,

watching over me, silently, night and day,

hiding Himself through all my distress,

as I longed to feel my soul caressed?

Would I struggle to trust Him, amidst all the mess,

standing on promises under duress?

It’s so easy, when everything runs smoothly on.

But, with many catastrophes, hope almost gone,

would I crumble in anger and think I was conned?

What if God simply waits for our souls to cry out,

sends a still, small Voice, to answer our shout, 

after we’ve wearied ourselves, and grown quiet?

Will we hear our name, when He quietly sighs it?

Now’s the time I’ll discover an answer to this,

as I crouch in hysterics, above an abyss.

Will I slide off, hopeless, by choice or design?

No trace of me, ever, for any to find?

But… what if this God I so stupidly fought,

shows mercy to me, and claims what He bought?

Saves this soul! Yes, me, this sinner so wretched!

I finally see, now that I am so aged!

But, what if it’s too late, and too long I’ve waited?

All my life spent so foolishly, spurning, debating.

Yet, what if God knew me before I was born, 

and saw this day coming, when I’m so forlorn?

What if God enters in, now the door’s been flung open,

bringing peace, and a healing to all that’s been broken?

What if God made and blessed me, then swept all away,

to get me to this point, so humbly, I’d pray,

“God, the wages of sin has brought life to this!”

What if God allows suffering to bring us to bliss?

Copyright © 2016 · All Rights Reserved · Regina Plimpton Quinn

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Youth’s Quest

I wish someone could suddenly, somehow, see

the me that I know I could someday be,

instead of this lame, lonely “wannabe,”

instead of the geek, who stares back at me

from the tech screen, reflecting.

I wear a façade, when I go out the door.

I try to blend in, but it’s such a great bore,

because the real me is so very much more,

than the tedious covering that mantles my core.

Nonetheless, I keep hiding.

Why should I give to others such power over me,

that I limit myself to just what they see,

when, alas, I am nothing, if I can’t be me,

true to my nature, not my own enemy,

cringing and cowering?

Where is bravery, when I need to take a bold hand?

Where is confidence hiding? More courage to stand?

Why am I always following, and not in command?

This is not the grand destiny that I have planned.

For what am I waiting?

I must realize, in fact, what this quest is about:

slaying my dragons of fear, and of doubt,

battling imaginings, stubborn and stout.

There is no ragged barrier that I can’t surmount,

if I just start challenging.

So, my mission, for me, is abundantly clear.

Gauntlets of chain mail, I don’t need to wear.

Toward my goal, toward my victory, I need to steer,

unrelentingly onward, and upward from here,

dauntless and daring.

I may fumble, while gaming. I may have some false starts.

But, I might just succeed, if I don’t lose my heart.

So, I’ll reset my efforts, only saving what’s smart.

Success isn’t mystery; that’s only a part

of victoriously living.

Copyright © 2016 · All Rights Reserved · Regina Plimpton Quinn

Just a Day

Today is just a day;

it began in such an ordinary way.

I awoke to aches and pains,

and I proceeded to complain.

Looked for coffee, but there was none.

Just as well; drink it too often.
I squint at sun, outside my window;

decide to hide, inside again, though,

watching birds that flit and flutter,

hearing nothing that they utter.
I count the hours ‘tween dawn and dusk,

endure them wearily, since I must.

I neglect to start some new thing.

I don’t really fancy changing.
Just a day like any other.

I’m quite sure, there’ll be another.

So, tomorrow, I’ll get out.

Make it count, this day. Today.
Well, today is just a day, too;

began as ordinary days do.

I awoke to aches and pains;

thought I’d rather not complain.

Had no coffee; drank some water,

for my health; you know, it matters.
Felt warming sun, through open window;

planted flowers to watch them all grow.

I watched birds that flit and fluttered,

enjoyed the melodies they uttered.
I’ll fill the hours ‘tween dawn and dusk.

No more days wasted, but, there’s no rush.

I think I’ll start my favorite new thing.

I like the fact I’m finally changing.
Just a day, like any other.

Alas, for me now, there is no other,

So, today, you must get out.

Make it count, this day. Today.
Copyright © 2016 · All Rights Reserved · Regina Plimpton Quinn