Walking with Jesus
©2025 Susan Noyes Anderson
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2025 is here, the new year
looking less than bright.
A dark path looms before my eyes;
my heart is longing for more light.
Cancer touches most of our lives, either personally or tangentially. I am currently fighting cancer myself and have written more than a few cancer poems lately. With that in mind, I’ve created a new category. No doubt I will add to my cancer poems collection as my treatment continues. I hope some or all of this poetry might be useful to others who are either walking the same road themselves or accompanying a loved one along the way. It is not an easy journey, and my heart is sending love and healing blessings to every one of us.
FINDING THE POEM YOU WANT: As you scroll through this section, read each snippet sample (usually the first four lines) to get a feel for the poem. When you find something you like, click “CONTINUE READING” to view the entire poem.
(My work may be used free for non-commercial purposes only. Please request permission by email and include full copyright information, legibly printed, on every copy made. For internet use, a link back to the poem on this website is required.)
2025 is here, the new year
looking less than bright.
A dark path looms before my eyes;
my heart is longing for more light.
Courage comes more easily,
when you still have a choice.
How can you show up brave if
you don’t even have a voice?
Is everyone here filled with dread,
or am I the exception?
These people seem too tranquil for
Oncology reception.
I woke up with one thought today,
one bracing bit of spirit wealth:
In life, there is no gift more sweet
than the freedom to be yourself.
My hair is falling down like rain –
disaster in the making.
These wisps and tendrils, once admired,
are borderline law-breaking.
We build ourselves just like a house
in this sojourn on earth.
Creatively, we’ve got the skills –
a blessing of our birth.
I’m doing some restructuring
I thought I’d done already.
And yet this house, however loved,
is holding less than steady.
A quiet room, a sterile room,
cold womb for the unwilling.
I sat there feeling quite alone,
my cup of sorrow filling.
It’s good, sometimes, to recognize
your fear and give it space,
to realize what’s eating you
so you can give it grace –
to walk into the jungle’s lair
with eyes wide open, knowing
that crocs and cobras watch and wait,
while jaguar eyes are glowing.