When the falling tear
Is caught within the hand
And you fight it back
Tooth and nail
Trying to prevail
And avoid succumbing
To its charms
It’s lure
Though inside you’re
Dying
Longing
And dreaming to fly
So much further
Than where you are now
it hurts
The screaming brain
Wants nothing to refrain
This
Nothing to dull this
Inside you’re yearning
To face this
To come to terms
With this
But like judas’ kiss
Your stubbornness
Betrays you
No one can see
Through you hardened
Exterior…
Yet you aren’t fooling
Anyone
The wool can’t be
Placed over the eyes
Of the Son,
This has only begun
Now you breathe
Once more
Allow the tears
To freely fall
hey it’s your life
Let it begin Anew
Wipe away yesterday
Sigh, then smile
And give tomorrow
A warmer embrace
Than is needed.
Church, Parable of the Talent, and on faith (Poem)
Sometimes this life is
cracked and broken
battered on the sharp
rocks of bitter tides.
When feebled burdens
shatter beneath
malnourished bones of faith
We will find our ways again.
One day, the dying soul
fighting for breath
pain riddled
rattled like a doll
from bygone days
shaken, torn and tattered
waged, we this ignorant
war within ourselves.
And now on death beds of
brick and mortar
we wonder why
they do not come,
when etched deep
beneath our fingernails
the splintered boards
of risk and faith,
the only evidence of
this remains.
And here, the series
of the ‘If only’s’
occurs.
Regrets tied to
our poor choices
anchored beneath the ice
of human tradition’s grave…
if only we had allowed
His Spirit,
we gasp with whispered
breath,
but doubt crept in
and stole our stilted courage
and so we hid our talents deep
when invested we should have done.
So we exchanged our fortunes
for this solitary one.
I Go (Poem)
Maybe who I am
Is not all I could be
Maybe who I
Could be
Would be
So much more
Than the shallow
Depth I feel.
I know I am
Not my own
That a calling
Heart ready,
Wants this growing
This holy
Endeavor to
Dig deep
Never sever
Never surrender
In my knowing
The spirit prompts
Me in my going…
And so I go.
White as snow
Like snow falling
white, resplendent
bright enough to blind
and as I place
a muddied footprint
within its folds
I am washing away my filth
something beyond me
something I can not compose
has brought me
thus far
here today…
cleansed,
washed clean
so that I reflect
not the crimson
but the fallen white
refrains of purity.
I am whole again.
Still my heart often, Dear Lord
Often,
when these thoughts
compete,
sprint off
into the hundred
meter dash
faster ever faster
feet a blur in its movement…
often
this is when I know
I must slow this
wearied pace.
Often
my heart,
a drum beat
chugging endlessly
at
one hundred and twenty
a rhythm that I
cannot catch
a train that has
pulled itself
mightily
from the station
departure has come and gone…
often
when I am standing
at the terminal
in full view of
the departing
in my horizon,
I know it’s time
to slow the pace
again.
Speak to me
Great heavenly Host
Father,
the Son
and the Holy Ghost,
Though I dread
the stilling of my heart
Often when I don’t
when I ignore
am blinded by these
feeble chores
how quickly time departs
from me and all that I
hold dear
derailed by the passing
strain
the stress
the rain of my expecting
heart…
Yet often,
more than I care to count
you still my heart
you sit me down
and speak within me
a silent stirring
that calls me to this
deeper devotion
far surpassing all of
my schedules and calendars
and things to do…
Still
my heart
once again
dear Lord…
for often I will too
soon forget.
From safety to security (Poem)
I look out of my window
through panes of glass
the blur
warbling images
as I glace from side
to side.
The light parades
itself
dancing to the
jostling rotation
of this God breathed
earth.
From inside
safe and sound
perhaps more in
mind
than in body.
Reality – outside
bleeds darker shades
crimson blending
into the soil.
Heart ache
well within reach
yet, if I close my eyes
I can
make believe
it doesn’t exist
safe behind my tempered glass.
But glancing
from side to side
eyes wide
taking it all in
it would be a sin
to ignore it.
A sin to make believe
it isn’t there.
A sin to stay…
to remain seated
safe and sound
in my little corner…
Something within me
beyond me
beckons
that I should go.
He beckons
that I should act.
“Oh Lord,
I have little strength
how can I do
what you would me do?”
And from my little corner
peering out
I hear Him say;
“My child who says
you should use
your strength?
for yours would
but a fraction be,
a second
in an hours time…
I will go with you.
My strength I
will impart
to you,
I will walk before,
beside and behind…
you will never be left alone.”
Now…
I am on the outside,
at times uncertain…
not of His presence
and power
but of where
He will lead
me next
for I go,
not in my strength
but in the One
who
beckons me onward.
In my ‘Nows’, not my ‘Whens’. (Poem)
When all else fails
when the engine light is on
when it putters, spews, coughs a death rattled breath
then lets go…I will begin to comprehend my worth.
When the paint, pealed and cracking on the barn
crumbling and falling down
speaks of yesterdays who are now
older than Moses and all of the
Red seas’ partings,
the falling loaves from heaven
and the sinning ways of the blind
when the earth gives ways to swallow
me whole…then I will find my way again.
When does when come again?
What is there in a terminal world
to cling to like a single hand grip
from plunging cliff?
What foothold do I have left within
all of my resources?
I am nothing.
I am but a wisp of vapor
trailing on a breeze…defenseless
and like Isaiah, when confronted with perfection
I am a broken man with muck and filth to my name.
When…maybe before the ‘when’…
as it turns a shade of gray in between
the ‘Now’, I will clasp onto YOU.
Dear God, who never lets a foot slip.
Jehovah who comes and claims His own.
The solitary stable Rock in a mudslidden world…
Never in my ‘Whens’ but may it be in my ‘Nows’
that I run to you…and embrace all there is
and grasp all there is
so that Holiness replaces brokenness
whole restores the shattered…
And I am in You.
War…half-time
taking another ounce
sweet precious ounce
one more drop of strength
my knees begin to give way
buckled as strength
runs for the exits…
whispering another prayer
beneath my breath
as the din of sorrow weigh
elephant heavy upon me.
Some good men stand for moments
others for countless years
all depending on a strength they neither
posses or pretended to from the start.
Every fragment of life, a gift
sometimes left hidden and unopened
under the tree, with crimson bow
still attached like drops of blood
from the cross so long ago.
What is it that I comprehend, if not
for His suffering and life giving?
Can the temporal glimpse
eternal…just slivers of hope,
a fraction of glory?
I stand here, battered
fight weary, arms like rubber
feet like concrete…yet we are
far from finished.
The Fight (Poem)
When my strength has tapped out
When all I am is drained away
When all I have is spent and gone
Lord, your strength I need today.
When I am down and for the count
and no one cheers me on
when failure looms in front of me
Your hope is never gone!
Give me a heart of strength
O Lord, I need Your light.
Stand before, beside and behind
So may I boldly carry on
and never quit this fight!
Fall on me (Poem)
Let Your love fall on me
Precious Spirit fall on me
may Your strength my will supply
this is my heart’s cry
Holy Spirit may your power
fall on me.
Let your grace fall on me
through your eyes, others see
I give my heart, my life to fill
come and guide, Spirit indwell
Holy Spirit come fall on me.
Pastor's Ponderings 