Beautiful Burden Poem by David Olughu

Three birds set out on a journey. Starting at the mountain top, they glided and then began looking for where to stop. They saw a cave, looking so secure, they began to crave. In their aura of brevity, they flew in. Though peaceful, it was empty and too clean... so they thought. Finally realising that the neat cave was knitted with sinister hooks, as revealed by the horror full looks. Just as oil and water can't coexist, the birds had no choice but to exit.
Their search continued again, but this time flying a little lower, in prevention of the occurrence of another mind blower. Then they saw a tree with an opening on it's trunk. They flew in and prepared to make their bunk. Just as the vibe was increasing in rations, they began feeling an increase in vibrations. Initially soothing, not until they began experiencing a tilting; the tree was being cut. In despair, the flew into the air.
Continuing their journey, they now flew even lower. Flying few meters above the ground, they saw a man holding a carton and they thought it well to be a shelter. They got in, about to rest when the greatest earth quake recorded in history occurred. Oh! ! , not really, the man only began tossing the carton around and that's why their turbulenceno bound. Finding the most feasible escape route, they ran out like visible adventitious roots.
They continued their journey, but this time flying even lower. They saw a child. They landed on his palm, so tender and mild. He cuddled them, protecting them from the wild. There they dwelled. Exercising his efficacy for intimacy, they became his friends and their relationship swelled. Then the birds began to release excreta, so bad that everyone despised him, including his ex, Rita.
We all long for Christ but this is the cross we have to carry.
"It is heavy", we may say.
"It is light", He says.
"It is many", we may replay.
These are our plights everyday.
I am no body builder, yet all this weight.
The more I carry the more I lose weight.
I am mocked by friends, sometimes they hate.
I am in shambles, what is my fate?
She is crying, send her the comforter.
Why must it be me that'll go and comfort her?
My heart constantly throbs for people that don't care about my troubles.
In outreach, I try to reach out and preach a way out.
I am ignored, insulted, humiliated and sometimes they even shout.
Yet I continue to press.
Sometimes I wonder the why.
In spite of this pain, it's impossible to cry.
There's always a spark to cause an ignition.
Something keeps on striking hope despite my unbalanced equation.
And then the always loving Father stretches forth His holy hands.
And when you think you can't go further,
He takes away the cross and makes you a boss.
He raises you from the mud, He becomes your shield and your sword, because in your heart you hid His word and then you can stand to say, I serve a living God.
Burdens, are so beautiful.
Sometimes they make you look like a beauty fool.
Although they might be painful,
they end up being gain full.
Serving as a gym for the spirit man,
they work you out by taking you on a walk out of comfort.
Like trade by bater,
exchanges spiritual maturity for need to grow fatter.
Burdens don't kill,
they only make stronger.
Burdens drill,
making you become more like the Father.
Burdens build endurance.
Burdens make you thirsty.
Burdens make your hunger swell.
Because only they that thirst can drink from the well.
Burdens make you return;
an opportunity to once again burn.


#TheMouthpiece