Poetry by Cindy
Speltz - (Click here
to read her daughter Jenni's testimony)
Calvary’s Climb
Jeered
at, mocked and
Teased –
Abruptly,
Violently
seized;
Stripped bare,
wind-
Whipped,
thrashed,
Scourged and
lashed;
Bruised,
battered and
Beaten;
Tormented,
Struck,
trampled and tossed, blood-soaked tears…beauty lost;
Flesh torn,
head thorned, twisted muscles quivered and worn; punctured
Protruding
veins, untouchable suffering pains; Weary, ragged
And rope-
burned; Countless hearts have no concern; pounding,
Pressing,
tumors welt; No man can fathom what Christ felt.
Splinters,
spittle, sailing
Jagged rocks;
Dislocated
Bones, ripped
out hair
Locks; Nails
driven deep,
Humiliated and
hung;
Suffocating –
His Scared
Wounds stung;
for all
Mankind, Jesus
came to
Save; In His
dying
Breath, he
forgave;
Simeon’s
Proclamation
Of sorrow came
to be:
His mother,
Mary,
Endured the
sword
Courageously.
Cindy Speltz
‘This One Child’
The World had
condemned her to certain death,
My innocent
child, before she drew her first breath,
Though the way
and the path were unknown to me,
Our bond of
love and kinship would forever be.
She is sacred
and of God, I understood,
This is a
child, destined for great good,
How profound is
the depth of a little one’s love,
There are no
bounds, beyond or above.
Out of fear and
darkness, a sin confessed
Becomes the
light and life, a child most blessed,
She is the
fruit and fragrance of heart,
An awakened
soul, a portrait of living art.
My baby girl’s
smile is heaven at a glance,
Her blue eyes
speak love, far and advanced,
She is a gift,
her purpose – divine from the start,
There were no
barriers, that could keep us apart.
Her mother’s
‘yes’ to life, would stir opposition,
This one child
defeats a culture of division,
Born is she,
truth and beauty by grace healed,
In virtue of
her being, integrity is revealed.
Cindy
Speltz
‘The Gift – Forgotten’
Where are all
the children
We reject and
refuse,
Under the guise
of
‘The right to
choose,’
Who will
remember
Each and every
child – lost,
Oh, what have
we done
Who could
fathom the cost,
Can you not
hear
Their silent
screams,
Beyond the
hills and
Below the
streams,
The gift of
little children
Who are no
more,
A hidden wound
– unhealed
Fatal to the
core,
So many are
deprived
Of family love
and life,
When will it be
too late
Reaping enough
strife,
Vacant wombs
and
Empty hearts
Place no value
On broken bones
And fetal
parts,
Where are
silent grieving mothers
Who have not
given birth,
May your cries
be heard
Echoing
throughout the earth,
Our nation’s
soul
On a quest for
death,
May god’s final
mercy
Be our saving
breath,
All the little
children-lost
Would have us
forgiven,
Who’ve shed
their blood
Are now with
God, in Heaven…
Cindy Speltz
