Saturday, February 14, 2015

Poem of the Week | Fight With Your Heart, by Theodore Wilson III

Samedi, 14 Fevrier, 2015
Verse of the Day:
« Je vous donne un commandement nouveau : que vous vous aimez les uns les autres ; comme Je vous ai aimés, aimez-vous, vous aussi, les uns les autres. A ceci tous reconnaîtront que vous êtes mes disciples : si vous avez de l’amour les uns pour les autres. »—Jean 13.34-35

Quote of the Day: "God is an infinite sphere, where the center is everywhere and the circumference is nowhere."—Blaise Pascal
« Dieu est une sphère infinie, dont le centre est partout et la circonférence nulle part. »—Blaise Pascal

French Fun Fact: The storming of the Bastille was more of a symbolic act. During that day, there were only 7 prisoners and 4 of them were there because of check forging. (confessedtravelholic.com)

What’s Really Happening Over Here:
Weather – Partly Cloudy, Precip. 0%
Temperature – 47⁰F

A Day In the Life:
Take a guess.

Un Peu de Poesie!
Fight With Your Heart
He looked to his left, then he looked to his right, as his palms became sweaty, and his throat became tight. His heart pounded forcefully, and his muscles were tensed at the thought of the upcoming battle tonight. His life was at stake, he might soon breathe his last, but their course had been set, and the dye had been cast. He was ready to die, due to honor and pride—for country and brethren, for his children and bride.

He looked at the ground, then he looked to the sky, then he looked at the camp where his enemies lie. They were resting, or dreaming; even singing and talking, completely unaware of their enemy’s stalking. His mind was made up, of death unafraid, the night was as quiet as the wind in his braids. This was his calling, this was his moment—his choice was but victory, or slavery’s torment.

He looked at the moon, he looked back at his men, and he thought of the hells he had gone through with them. He had tears in his eyes, they had tears in theirs too; they had all been so faithful, so loyal, so true. Then he turned and he grunted, with the camp in his gaze; oh how he hated this foe he would raze! They had slandered the God who had given them life—and the One who would through him take it back on this night.

He unsheathed his weapon, and he walked towards the glow of the fires ahead as his soldiers followed. As he picked up his pace, he felt his blood boil, his footsteps unheard in the soft, darkened soil; and with a voice as sure as the point of his sword, he yelled: “Fight with your heart! Fight for the LORD!”

Written by: Theodore  Wilson III


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