I will refrain from playing these melodies
for in them I find disjunct, discord…
Its tune resounds loudly,
far too proudly,
I will refrain from playing these melodies,
though this heart bends to its lure…
it is the knocking on the door
but deeply wrong to the core…
A sigh from maudlin groans,
yet I cannot play these melodies
for all too soon
they will play me
swaying me like autumn winds
through bowing trees…
and I will be swept from this identity
stabbed in the heart
by riffs and these temptress notes.
So I slam this door,
board it up.
lock it down tight…
and walk away
pretending not to hear
its deceitful strain.
Putting on my outer coat, with sleeves – woolen and rough,
I open up the world and step into it once more.
The fray, the angst, the hatred, the love…it rushes at me
almost knocking me off my feet.
Taking away my balance,
Exhaling another breath,
it gets caught in winter’s embrace
takes flight in wisps of cloud…soft, white, feathery;
if I am brutally honest,
I wish I too could take flight,
could rise up,
on the wings of morning
and embrace the frigid breeze.
I wish that I too could
top the bowing trees, heavy with fallen snow
and be eye to eye with the sun…
Longing to feel its radiance
breathing into me a song
as old as the groanings of the earth
as these bones pine for its alluring kiss
and sighing one last time,
I close the door
engage the engine
and head out into the thick of it
while I bid the rising dreams goodbye
for but a moment.
Jesus is crooked on our bible study wall
no one seems to notice, no one at all
He hangs there with arms slightly askew
tell me dear reader, what am I to do?
For with our starched shirts and proper attire
with ties tied tight we proclaim “blood and fire”
but Jesus just hangs there and so do we
never quite venturing outside in the streets
He, by all accounts was far from straight laced
He broke many a custom but did so with grace
healed the outcast and reject, the slightly askew
tell me dear soldier, isn’t that what we ought to do?
Sure we should offer both rules and the grace
impossibly crooked so the lost see His face
never just stuck within walls of a corps
tell me dear soldier, is that what we stand for?
Yes, Jesus is crooked on our bible study wall
a reminder for the seeker and those who would call
A Revolution of love and grace must begin
for all of us crooked, broken and riddled with sin.
If I but give myself to thee, O Lord,
Roll over on to thee my life and way,
Acknowledge heavenly truth within thy word,
Believe thy love is constant every day
Then will I know the peace that trusting brings,
The power that issues freely from thy hand,
The joy which rises from eternal springs,
The quality of life which thou hast planned.
O grant me, Lord, the wisdom to believe
That life is only life when lived in thee;
Grant me the faith to ask and then receive
The promised life which Christ would live in me.
Shine thou through me thy love and righteousness –
A glow of hope in this world’s hopelessness.
Psalm 37: 5.6
‘Trust in him…he will make your righteousness shine like the dawn.’
The darkest day for earth had come
From life to death, the cumbersome
a cross of death, his blood was shed
scourge of sin, a thorn pierced head.
the day was black, as black as sin
faith peeled away within the din
disciples fled and mourned aloud
hiding within the hostile crowd.
His body broke, and with it fell
the fall of man and sins dark spell
His gift of life, the lamb laid down
and with that hope our glory found!
It is at wits-end that God is there
but He is also there when tears fall
before you call, He has heard your heart
from the start, you’re never alone.
Sometimes like Elijah depressed and dejected
emotionally high yet fear has boldly infected
the soul with a broken heart inside
waiting for God to show up as you hide…
no, not fire, or earthquake He’s in
but His still small voice, He knows where you’ve been
you might feel weak and powerlessly alone
but find strength, He will come
He won’t leave you alone,
Hold on, don’t you quit, or lose sight
See, here He comes with power and might
don’t lose fight, don’t believe the lie
the strength you now have, comes from on high.
You don’t need to call down fire from above
you don’t need to have visions to receive His love
but faithfulness in spite of the place
His rescue comes in full as does His grace.
Sometimes this means of grace
is a long drawn-out humble confession
other times our cynicism needs to be
brutally murdered, quartered and beheaded.
Our human eyes are so frail and poor
blocking the wonders, the majesty – His love.
Sometimes this means of grace
falls into our laps, haphazardly
and quite by surprise.
We realize how quickly life can change
we attempt to rearrange on our own
but fall so terribly flat on our faces
we can’t win these spiritual races
in their places we need His grace.
Sometimes this means of grace,
blanket heavy, warms us from the cold
boldly plucking our guilt from frozen
while we utter from our lips
the prayers we’ve been taught
yet only when His soothing hands
touch our skin do we ever let
it reach our hearts…
How damned we are without it.
how utterly wasted away
frail worn and dirtied from the fray…
how damned we are without it.
Give way to the rising of the sea
Grasping and hoping to finally break free
Throw a stone in the ocean
And sink beneath its tides
You’re so close to home
Where all the shadows hide.
Don’t close your eyes
Or turn away from this
Your heaven breaks the surface
and longing for first kiss
Give way, dear soul to the sea
And breathe free, breathe free.
Today our dog decided to play
“Hurdle the cat”
And so he leapt
Springing high into the air
Soaring high above
In a K9 kind of grace
Four legs splayed outward
Ears flapping with the strong
Winds from the upper atmosphere.
He cleared the cat
By a good two feet
But did you know that
Cats actually hate the game:
“Hurdle the cat”?
Because her fur was raised
And not in a flattering way
much to our dog’s dismay
her teeth were bared
And she assumed
The “I’m going to kill you”
Needless to say,
Our dog has now retired
From “hurdle the cat”…
At least until tomorrow.