Tag: Poem

Skip A Stone In Autumn (A Poem)

“You will be missed!”

I utter from scornful and

mournful lips

on my tip toes I attempt to

peer past the horizon and beyond

the curvature of the world

so that I can glimpse

her fire

one more time.  

Statue-still waters ripple and lap

gently onto pebbles slick with melancholy

as cold breaths of winter

glimpse in on us 

inquisitive yet oblivious to our 

mourning there. 

I skip one more stone 

with warm days of August

still lingering to fingertips

now growing deathly cold…

turning, I exhale one last time

and reluctantly embrace

these colder days once again.

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photo & poem by Scott E. Strissel 11/5/2013

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Complete Surrender (A Poem)

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When the sails have been lofted

And the gusts of winds,

Not in our favor, have shifted

All of our hopes and dreams

Sometimes finding jagged rocks

Upon distant shores.

As foam and tide clasp

And then collide

We ride on…broken

yet still alive. 

Other times we cling to

These water logged

life boats,

bailing out bucket-fulls

praying in earnest

that we find safe harbor…

we yearn, we labor

savoring these remaining

ounces of courage

all the while

depleted reserves

left in our spiritual storage

of reservoirs are the only things

that have run dry.

The tides continue to

Beat their tribal drums

thumping against our feeble plans.

Could it be, perhaps

The Divine  waiting

In earnest yet lovingly

on our complete and

 utter capitulations?

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Holiness (Poem)

Lord, I long to devote my all to You

to surrender my heart and will

and I complete in Your holiness live

yet I confess a fragment lingers still.

My heart yearns to be one with You

to stand complete before the King

and sin no longer a binding force

my all before you I must bring.

Holy Spirit, descend upon my life

I yearn for entirety of grace

with nothing restraining my heart

I long to see Your face.

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To my Lord of the Harvest (Poem)

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All my efforts, all my pains

nothing but the best for Thee

grant me Lord your loving heart

and others I might see. 

 

Plant me in the fertile soil 

so that these roots grow deep 

be my gardener and my Lord 

an abundant harvest to reap. 

 

And in those days that will come

when drought and famine be

these lips and service, action take 

to ever live for Thee.

-Amen.

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The World A Flame (Poem)

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I watched the world die today

from my three seasons porch

my comfortable perch, a safe haven

of hope drawn in by

its soft, inviting  light of the day.

It spilled onto my lap, warming my feet

as I sat cross legged on the couch.

The earth was in flames today

and I watched it all burn and smolder

and finally it came crashing

down

to the ground.

I watched with horrified

interest

on the edge of my seat

fascinated and transifixed

as hatred ruled the heart

I drank another

cup of steaming coffee

rich and black

smooth as silk

down to the last bitter

earthen drop.

Bitterness tainted

more than this empty cup

as I watched

it ignited the  hapless soul

as it careened out of control

diving headfirst  into the souls

of others who were also hell bent

on the pathways of selfishness.

As eyes took in the flames

the heat, the spite, the maliced tongue

I wept…for this was

a vision of me

hell bent on my own

accomplishments…

hell bent on my own agendas

on my own devices and self-ladden heart

the man aflame was me…and I could do nothing

but watch it all go crumbling down

how powerless these hands and feet.

How empty all these yearnings and strivings.

How bitter the self-indulgent worries

and the blankets of careless apathy.

I saw the world burn today

as I sat and watched it all crumble to the ground.

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Frustrations (A Poem)

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Sometimes it’s hard to be

As meek as lambs

When the wolves are circling

Sometimes it’s hard to be light

And Show this love

When the daggers are out.

 

Would someone please

Protect my back

I’m under attack

No support for me this time

Can’t you read between the lines.

 

Sometimes all hope

Seems to break away

When these tongues are wagging

Sometimes I forgot In whom I serve

Lord I’m blinded by this mess

all these saints are dragging

 

Would someone please

Boldly step up

I feel as If alone

Where are my brothers in arms

When the saints become the curse?

 

Help me Christ my solid rock

For I feel I’m sinking quick

These sinners saved by grace

Seem to only save themselves

this hurt has made me sick.

 

But Your hand, your hand is reaching

And Your love, Your love is soothing

You give me strength when no one else can

You give me hope, Your solid rock I stand! 

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At the moment of resignation and surrender (Poem)

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I want to grasp your hand dear Lord

But my grip is oh so weak

An ebbing strength of childlike hands

dulled senses, calloused and poor.

Yet as fingertips extend to where

They have never touched the heavens

All blood escapes as gravity closes in for a closer look

Kissing the heart strings as I strain

But Lord how feeble I must seem

All the while you, in all your glory

Indescribable in your majesty and might.

Even though I reach and strain

Gritting teeth and labored breath

I am no closer to you than when I started…

It is in a moment of complete resignation

Shoulders slumped, eye lids shut

Bitterness on the tongue pushed back

Swallowed and helplessness in my heart…

It is in this moment of complete and utter

Abandon of self-worth and personal gain

That I feel something.

That I feel a touch.

That I feel a warmth, like never before

As blazing fingertips extend and grasp onto mine

As I pull back in surprise for but a moment

As I recognize that I am in your very presence

Totally lost, powerless and surrendered…

You hold my hands in yours, I can feel your power

I can feel your strength as if it beckons me to

Believe. 

Looking up, hesitant, penitent

I find love.

I find joy.

I find peace.

All of my labored aching ceases

I am whole.

I am found.

I am Yours. 

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A day at the funeral. (Poem)

I buried a man today
Ten years my junior
Stark, the room
Cold the assurances
As the fragile breath
Sighed no more.
Sleek alabaster carpets
With leaves enwrapped
As if half in protection
Coddled close the precious
Tight.
Solemn the day light slipped
Past windows half closed
Curtains half drawn
Yet unnoticed, we bid farewell.
Sorrow, this despised guest,
Beckoned us to come
And with eyes
heavy with mourning
We duly obliged.
Yet as prayer and song
Evaporated past these lobby doors
I swear I saw him there
Glimpsing one last time
At what he missed,
He nodded to me
Seeing me there…
and i knew that
The sunset was not
too far
Behind.

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My Prayer (A Poem)

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Father,

Let my hands, marred and filthy

Be cleansed, purified and true

So that I can reach a world that’s dying

And let them find you.

 

Spirit,

Let this tongue, course and violent

Touch the coals from your holy fire

So that I might speak of truth

And love might penetrate this liar.

 

Jesus,

Let my heart, selfish and vain

Beat for the hurting and the lost

So that, with your power and might

Your blood might drown the cost

 

Holiness,

What my heart should love and fear

Christlikeness, breaking sin’s dark mold

This body, soul and mind brought low

So that I, in Christ, a servant…may be bold.  

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Seeing the Miracles (Poem)

Perhaps it is in the simple things…

the catch in the throat,

the sliver of light cresting the horizon, 

in the fresh morning dew lending itself

to the growing blooms.

Perhaps the eye catches but a glimpse

of God’s amazing miracle

appearing and disappearing all around

touching our souls, 

igniting and renewing our faith…

perhaps that is what He meant 

when He said, it is the blind leading the blind

for we donned on our pharisee clothings

we play our parts and move along

but the it is all brain work

closing off the heart valves 

staving all emotion 

as we simply go through the motions…

Yet perhaps we’ve miss the mark.

Perhaps we lost sight of His miracles, 

closed our eyes and failed to truly see.

Oh that we may open them once again…

to catch miracles on our fingers

touching the blood coursing through

our veins

and then again ignite our souls…

perhaps this happens in an instant…

or in eighty years…

but dear Lord let these scales fall from 

these blinded eyes again.

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