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Two Poems by Elizabeth Brooks: "No More Tears, I Surrender", and "Scattered"

No More Tears, I Surrender

I can’t even remember the beginning

it was all a whirlwind. A one line

text from my baby sister, bypass surgery

on Monday. It was hard to keep up with the

ins and outs, hours, days and nights turned

into months. God in action left me

sometimes staring not even praying.

There were fears and echoes of prayers

but faith brought us closer together from

every corner of the globe. She was never

alone, not one day or night.

We witnessed poking and sticking

large black blue and purple bruises

pain and unconsciousness

struggle breathing. Outward scars not

healing. Father, You took me through twists

and turns, several storms and left

me heavy chested and broken-

hearted. But it is not about me, Father

what about my sister? I surrender!

I began to stand on Faith, not fear and

started to thank my Holy Father for her healing.

After several tiresome months and days,

There was a flicker of the Gift of Life.

With love spilling over, I asked

is that my beautiful bright-eyed sister?

And I got a knowing smile, awkward but knowing.

A confirmation that His Grace is sufficient

to raise us, heal us - in spirit, mind, body and soul.

And I glorified His name. I tasted victory and

asked everyone to sing with me “How Great is Our God!

Scattered Like sheep without a shepherd Stolen unfamiliar voices, unfamiliar names unfamiliar places. Some mornings I did not utter a sound, when I lifted my voice in a song of praise- to my creator. I could hardly go beyond – calling Him by an unfamiliar name but they could not steal the secrets of my heart, my spirit, and my soul so my heart prayed- in the language of the Holy Spirit then I learned the language- that I was given, because I couldn’t pray- in the language- that was stolen-

My heart prayed and prays. Your ancestors are from, England, Germany, Spain, Sweden, Russia etc., I don’t have that privilege. My ancestors are from Africa, a continent of many nations. We are the only people who cannot call on God, our creator -in our native language, our mother tongue. We don’t know which country or tribe, our ancestors are from. Still my heart prayed and prays to Jesus.


Elizabeth Brooks

Elizabeth P. Brooks is originally from Trinidad and Tobago and now calls Tampa Bay home. She is deeply concerned about human dignity and the need for social justice. She is outgoing, loves the sound of laughter and the power of the word. She is a performance poet and has had several poems and two non-fiction essays published in Indiana Voice Journal. She is the author of a recently published chapbook ,“You May Applaud Now and other poems” and she is currently working on a novel and many other projects. Elizabeth is a reference librarian at Saint Leo University in Dade City, Fla., and volunteers as an adult literacy tutor in Tampa. She is a contributor to the Huffington Post. Elizabeth writes the column "A Call to Love" for Spirit Fire Review. You can visit Elizabeth at her Facebook page here: Elizabeth Brooks

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