Reflections

Inspirational Thoughts and Poems for Bikers : 

 

Wind in My Face

With the wind in my face,

life's problems seem to vanish without a trace.

With the wind in my face,

my senses magnify as my heart begins to race.

With the wind in my face,

there's no landscape I see that's commonplace.

With the wind in my face, I feel a

unity with God's magnificent creation.

Astride my bike is not just a time to feel the wind in my face,

but a time of reflection and meditation.

If alive today, I envision some of God's chosen men,

with their faces in the wind,

to be bikers in the war against sin.

No doubt John the Baptist, a rugged man,

bearded and clothed in camel hair,

with the wind in his face, would preach God's

message as only God's mightiest would dare!

Paul, Silas and Peter, with the wind in their face,

would ride bikes as chariots of old throughout the land,

proclaiming God's truths to modern man.

Jesus, being the kind of man he was, I think would be a biker too,

riding from place to place, with the wind in his face,

calling for all to experience God's Amazing Grace!

Author: Roger L. Farrow Sr., c. 1998

A DIFFERENT CHRISTMAS POEM

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,

I gazed round the room and cherished the sight.

My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,

My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.

Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,

Transforming the yard to a winter delight.

Sparkling lights in the tree, I believe,

Completed the magic of Christmas Eve.

My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,

Secure and surrounded by love, I would sleep.

In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,

I slumbered, perhaps, I started to dream.

The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,

I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.

Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know,

Then the sure sound of footsteps, outside in the snow.

My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,

So I crept to the door just to see who was there.

Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,

A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.

A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,

Perhaps a Marine, huddled there in the cold.

Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,

Standing out watching me, my wife and my child.

"What are you doing?" I asked without fear,

"Come in this moment, it's freezing out there!

Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,

You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"

For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,

Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts....

To the window that danced with a warm fire's light.

Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right,

I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night."

"It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,

That separates you from the darkest of times.

No one had to ask or beg or implore me,

I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.

My Gramps died at 'Pearl' on a day in December,

A Christmas my 'Gram' will always remember."

My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam',

And now it is my turn and so, here I am."

I've not seen my son in more than a while,

But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile."

Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,

The red, white, and blue........an American flag.

"I can live through the cold and the being alone,

Away from my family, my house and my home.

I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,

And sleep in a foxhole with little to eat."

"I can carry the weight of killing another,

Or lay down my life with my sister and brother,

Who stand at the front, against any and all,

To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall."

"So go back inside and harbor no fright,

Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."

"Isn't there something I can do, at the least,

Give you money," I asked, "prepare you a feast?"

It seems all too little for all that you've done,

For being away from your wife and your son."

Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,

"Just tell us you love us, and never forget.

Fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,

Stand your own watch, no matter how long."

"For when we come home, either standing or dead,

To know you remembered we fought and we bled.

Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,

That we mattered to you, as you mattered to us."

Pray for our military men and women!

Never forget. Until they all come home.

- Anonymous  

 

Bikers for Christ

Raleigh-Durham Chapter

PO Box 4584

Cary, NC 27519

bikersforchristrdu@embarqmail.com