‘Do Not Return’ and Other Poetry by Martin Rizley

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Do Not Return

“…forgetting those things which are behind and reaching
forward to those things which are ahead.”

—Philippians 3:13

Do not return where once you were contented—
It is a trap to seal you in despair;
For time moves on, and grieving hearts tormented
By pangs of loss won’t find what once was there.

Do not go back where once you felt lighthearted—
It is a snare, to lock you fast in gloom;
The house lies lorn, the loved ones have departed,
And silence reigns in every empty room.

Don’t seek the landscapes or the shining places
That glowed like gold mines; now they’re dark with rust,
And in the crowds, you’ll see no cherished faces,
For time’s a grinder that turns all to dust.

It’s good to watch the burning embers glow
As slowly they grow cold and turn to ash,
But if you take them in your arms, you’ll know
That only pain comes from an act so rash.

Let memories live in your fondest dreams
To make you smile as on life’s path you roam,
But do not swim against time’s flowing streams,
Nor seek to make of shades a settled home.

Do not go back where once your heart was happy,
The hearth is bare, the palmy days have flown,
And all your loved ones—Brother, Ma, and Pappy—
Have gone ahead and left you here alone.

Do not remain alone, but go forth boldly;
New life awaits you, if you seize the day!
For winds of cherished yesterdays blow coldly
And cannot warm you, when they fade away.

Look up! Take heart! Fresh vistas full of wonder,
New friends await you on the road ahead.
Don’t let grief’s vultures tear your life asunder.
Come join the living; leave behind the dead.

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Traveler’s Rest

The Old Man’s Testimony

When I was young, my longing was to go
To distant shores, to ancient, fabled lands,
To wondrous worlds my wild heart wished to know
Beyond far coral seas and coastal sands.

I longed to roam for countless days on end
Across green hills, through valleys far and wide,
Through woods and fields, my pilgrim’s way to wend,
To rest in some quaint inn at eventide.

But now I long, not so much to go forth,
But to come home again and find my rest
Where from the east and west and south and north
All paths converge, and life is at its best!

I’ve seen the mountains, and the crystal seas,
I’ve seen the bustling cities, full of life,
I’ve known ecstatic joys and times of ease,
And had my share of sorrows, pain, and strife.

I’ve walked unnumbered miles and worn out shoes
From all the dusty roads my feet have trod;
I’ve freely gone wherever I would choose,
Except where doors were firmly closed by God.

I’ve felt the winter’s blast cut like a knife,
And springtime’s zephyr breezes stroke my hair;
Scorched by the summer’s heat, I’ve felt my life
Revive once more in autumn’s cooling air.

So now, within these walls, my heart’s content,
To live out all the moments that remain;
While others go the way that once I went,
Here I would stay in days of sun and rain.

To stay right here, within this cherished home,
While all the restless world rushes by—
That’s fine with me! I have no wish to roam,
I’ve seen all I would see before I die.

Of all rare sights, there’s one on which I’ve gazed
Worth more than all the world—beyond compare:
A barren hill, on which a cross was raised,
The dying form of One who anguished there.

I’ve seen the tree of life! That’s how I know
I’m ready to move on when God thinks best,
For when that fixed hour comes for me to go,
He’ll lead this weary pilgrim to his rest.

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Martin Rizley grew up in Oklahoma and in Texas, and has served in pastoral ministry both in the United States and in Europe. He is currently serving as the pastor of a small evangelical church in the city of Málaga on the southern coast of Spain, where he lives with his wife and daughter. Martin has enjoyed writing and reading poetry as a hobby since his early youth.