‘The Immigrant’ and Other Poetry by Martin Rizley

The Immigrant

As his ship now departs to cross over the sea,
He looks back as he fondly remembers
The dear family he leaves, the quaint house by the lea,
And two eyes that once sparkled like embers.

For the passion he saw in those eyes, like his own,
Burned so bright as fall’s bonfires grew dim,
But the winter wind called out her name with a moan,
And now nothing’s the same here for him.

In the warm days of summer, their love blossomed new
With the heather that bloomed on the hill;
Not a cloud cast a shade, not a chilling wind blew
As they strolled over ridge and by rill.

As their love ripened with the year’s harvest, they yearned
To be wed as the green leaves turned gold,
But her eyes were soon closed, and those embers that burned,
Now extinguished, lay ashen and cold.

So to bury the past, he embarks on this day
For a land that he never has known;
As the sun rises slowly, its beams fill the bay,
Shining brightly as once her eyes shown.

In his own eyes, tears gleam, for his old cherished dreams
Must now fade in the light of the sun;
Yet the griefs that he feels are like birth pangs, it seems,
Since today, a new life has begun.

For the night has now fled; a new day lies ahead
Full of hope like the sun’s golden ray;
But he’ll never forget her whom he longed to wed
And their shared love, ere she went away.

Though years hence, he may rise under far distant skies,
In his heart, loving thoughts there will be
When he thinks of those eyes and the hill where she lies
On that island across the wide sea.

My Father’s Gift

I woke this morning, and I found
A lovely package at my door,
Left there by one who made no sound
While on my porch the night before.

Its sky-blue wrapping seemed to glow
With moving clouds; it had a dove
Of peace atop its sunbeam bow–
The tag read, “To my son, with love.”

I opened it and found inside
A fresh new day, a gift from One
Who looks on me with love and pride,
As fathers look upon a son.

I saw the day was good to eat,
Just like a cooling, fresh-baked cake
Whose scent draws strangers off the street,
Its spicy goodness to partake.

Or like a multi-colored coat
Prepared for me with love and care
Like that which Jacob, prone to dote
On Joseph, made for him to wear.

To wear this coat, I saw that I
Must doff the gloomy robe I wore
And hang it in the closet by
Old, threadbare sighs, and close the door.

“The Lord has given me this day,”
I said, “with gladness to embrace;
So let my sorrows fade away
Before the splendor of His grace!’

“Let me rejoice with each new day
My Father leaves outside the door;
For though the skies above be gray,
His love shines on me evermore.”

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.