Tag: Poem

Jesus Wept

Jesus wept…

did He weep for me? 

Was He weeping

for Himself? 

Was He afraid

knowing the path 

that lay ahead…

it says he sweat 

like drops of blood

was He conflicted

before the tree? 

Was it a conflict 

that He should die for me? 

Two simple words

that pierce my heart

carrying with it a weight 

of power and a wealth of love…

was I on His mind – with future

edging in, threatening Him? 

Jesus wept…two words

that form on my tongue

and creep deeply in my soul

knowing in His tears he 

carried my burdens 

and washed them away. 

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Whispers or the love song? (Poem)

There is a whisper 

breathless and full of repine 

counting down the ifs

the and couldas and the shouldas…

the well is full of these regrets

with night as black as coal 

and eyes that stare menacingly back

as if in reproach and in contrition. 

Were it so and the hands of time

were to cooperate 

the hands of man might undo

that which enslaves the mind, body and soul.

We are all slaves. 

Shackled, broken, held against our

will, our identities wiped away 

how wretched it must be

to remain if freedom loomed 

with open door and nail pierced hands.

Though the whispers may continue

we do not have to listen anymore.

For there is a far better song

a lyric sewn with love

webbed with compassion 

and grafted like our blood line

to our Father. 

Yes, the whispers might continue

but give ear to the song of love

for it beckons and grants a much kinder 

destination without chains or remorse. 

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To my loving wife (A Poem)

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In the breaking of the morning light

when the sun shakes the cobwebs of the dew

in the faceted mornings bright

that’s where I fell in love with you.

Flaxen hair golden in the sun

treasured heart of my heart

and hand intertwined with mine

on a sandy beach we promised forever.

and in the waning hours of the sun set

with ring in hand and promises of tomorrows

on knee I bent and ask you there

with passion of this love inside.

And still, though many a sun has come and gone

since then, and time has carried on its way

this love of mine, oh heart of my heart

still beats in time to the promised forevers.

I’m not just content to grow old with you

but rather in wisdom of age and heart

to speak the languages of your love

and cherish each day as a preview of eternity.

I love you.

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On the journey

Like the sorrows of the sea

drifting back and forth,

froth with foam

deep as the midnight sky

a firmament of wonder 

that stretches out far beyond

our eyes can see…

there we find our humble 

existence. 

There we recognize 

just how finite we are

within an infinite realm. 

As the ebb and flow 

the undertow 

and the currents of time

cast us about messages in bottles

and washed up wreckages 

we tell our tale, a story to share

existential clarity 

never charity but love

centered and fine. 

This pure hope resounds

keeps stillness at bay, 

at arms length the death knell

is silenced. 

Thankful

I close my eyes…

and enjoy this journey.  

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The Sentinel (Poem)

His mother,

Like a sentinel

Watches over him

Catching each breath

With her eyes

Never growing weary

of seeing him sleep…

each inflation of the lungs

and exhaling only to repeat again-

a gift, a treasured hope!

With wings unfurled,

alabaster gleaming

In the soft moonlit room,

So that while the darkness

creeps and leans in

with its shadows

she knows how to pull

him in and hold him close

again.

There will be no rest

this night as the sentinel

watches, waits, anticipates

never closing her eyes

for but a second,

lending all of her strength

to the dreaming toddler

at her side.

Such love.

An example, a reflected

beauty from the heavens…

As if God himself were there

Holding fast to the night,

holding shadows and its

Darkness away…

A sentinel, a rock

a safe harbor for those

seeking refuge in the darkness. 

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In the Arms of God (Poem)

In the arms of God

I am complete again.

In the arms of God

This soul latches onto peace.

His arms, of might and glory

Redeeming me at such a cost

I was lost but enfolded now

Beneath His sacred saving hand.

 

In the grace of God

I will make my stand

In the grace of God

All things of heaven and man

Become focused through his love

In the grace of God

I am made right again

Unmerited, undeserved

Yet here I stand

In the grace of God.

 

The very heart of God

Is my forward focus

I am not whole but for Him

The very heart of God

Compels me onward

And through the

blood of Christ I win.

Standing boldly

Love surrounds me

I am but His and his alone. 

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The Path and New Directions (Poem)

pathway

The road drags on

Out into the vast distance

Its dust, blanket enfolded

Stretching out its forked

tongue, sometimes cumbersome

sometimes joy beyond refrain.

Often to the lowly traveler

beckoned  forward out past

horizons never fathomed

snaked upon winding roads

sometimes curved, and sometimes rugged

yet no blame can fall

upon the chosen path.

All devices and illusions

brought together by our choice

from departing consequence

to arriving destination

we, not the path are its creator.

Some, though waylaid, stop

along the trail a time or two

a destination -not the goal

but rather in the journey itself.

What of my journey?

Is there joy?  Fulfillment?

How often have I become consumed?

Overtaken by life’s ebbs and flows?

Can I start again?  Certainly not

from the original beginning…

but I know I must and so I take

the next turn and with the breeze

at my back, I smile and take

in each breath, each moment

a gift and not a curse.

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On God’s Grandeur (Poem)

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In the silent whispers of the morning kiss

Beneath still breezes laying heavy on the barren field

The cattle are all huddled together lowing softly

taking comfort in the cold autumn morning

beyond the field and dancing waves of grain

empting themselves again and again

in harvest moons, now since past

The farm house sits, buffeted by

thick firs a family, a copse of trees.

On the cusp of this morning

The sun is lazily taking its time to rise

While the duties of the farmer is long over due.

Now rife with cup, steaming in pre-dawn briskness

Hand grasping the responsibilities passed down

From father to son to son again

He walks into the day

His office with a view

John Deere for a desk

Overhauls for his three piece suit

With more at stake than corporate interests

And stock portfolios. 

In the silent whispers of the morning kiss

His feet, crunching sun burnt grains

Will begin again, taking each stride

One moment at a time

Ready to stretch God’s grandeur

Further and grander than his yesterdays. 

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Embracing a welcomed guest

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The snow is finally melting today
It feels like spring has its hand firmly
Grasping the door to invite our friend
Summer in again.
My son whispered to me
He would find mysteries
Within the melting mush
Of the left over winter…
I’m not sure what he meant
But he produced a long lost
Sock, a wet and feeble glove
And some coins, dingy and rusted
(Did you know coins could rust?)

The city seems to be buzzing
With the luring promises
And seductive kisses of
The summer breeze
That is currently teasing us
Right now…
It’s warmth is certainly
Inviting, in fact
I’m working on my first
Sun burn of the yet to
Arrive season of warmth.

Welcome once again
I’m so glad you’ve returned.

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Wisdom or foolishness? (Poem)

Brandishing the hand of wrath 

the vanishing grace evaporates 

like the morning’s dew in the sun shine. 

Finding our hearts again 

like a widow in search of a coin

that would buy her bread 

for a day…are we prepared? 

Clothed with wisdom 

or naked in our foolishness? 

There are times where

we wish for fig leaves

in our foolish follies 

laying flat on our faces

purple with bruises of pride

wishing we could rewind the

moments of our lives. 

There are two journeys

of which we must choose

a path that leads to our downfall

plagued with illusions of grandeur

jagged and cliffed with failure…

the other path, a journey both difficult

and rewarding, yet here we stand

with a choice to make

wisdom and a ship of fools?

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