Poems, Personals, and Commentary

Archive for July, 2014

Can You Hear Jesus?

Can you hear Jesus?
His voice so gently calls.
I hear Him in the crashing waves,
In clear, bright mornings,
In darker days.

Can you hear Jesus calling?
He wants to own your heart.
Can you hear Him in the wind?
The fresh, cool breeze?
The Voice within?

Can I hear Jesus speaking?
Or is my heart too deaf?
Will I turn away from Him,
Let call grow dim, or
Let Him wash away my sin?

Can we hear Jesus speaking?
And let us meet one day,
On other side,
Without our pride —
He patiently abides.

By the Little River

By the Little River,
We laid our burdens down.
All our heavy baggage,
Our sins, our tears, our frowns.

By the Little River,
We heard the seagulls cry,
The seals and the buoy bells,
The foghorns as they sighed.

By the Little River,
The ocean waves did lure
Our hearts into a daydream
To joy intense and sure.

By the Little River,
We will go back once more.
I know that you’ll come with me
Along that peaceful shore.

—– Little River, California, July 22, 2014

Can’t Keep the Poems Back

Can’t keep the poems back,
The sing-song words,
They roll and turn
Inside my head.

They make me sane,
Help put a frame
‘Round jumbled thoughts
And pensive knots.

They make a fence,
Repel nonsense,
Build peaceful scenes
And help me dream.

The words are strong,
They build a bond.
They help express
Love’s fruitfulness.

Face Like Flint

(Isaiah 50:7, Luke 9:51)

Lord how can I be
As strong as You?
I don’t have a clue.

The Pharisee’s opinions
Didn’t affect your dominion —
You did what You had to do.

Will You help me be strong?
Keep on keeping on?
The road is so long.

Set my face like flint
And don’t look for hints
Of what others are thinking.

Have You Got My Back?

Feeling alone
And forlorn.
There’s nobody home.

Must keep on track,
Have you got my back?
Help me, Lord.

I know I’ll get through this,
With God I can do this,
But it takes so long.

You’re changing me daily;
I’m feeling so fraily.
My God is my strength.

That Nasty Stain

That nasty stain
Crept ‘cross the table.
To keep it back
I was not able.

The courage, the strength
To put at arm’s length,
Is what I lacked.

It crept along,
With no resistance,
Threatening existence.

‘Til Spirit’s rain
Came back again,
And washed it away.

Criticism

When anger festers,
When negativity soars,
Don’t you know it’s an open door?

To worms and snakes,
To thoughts that take
Over and make you squirm.

Don’t let that creeping thing
Take over.
Start over.

You don’t deserve,
You shouldn’t serve,
The god of criticism.

The First Snow

That day brought the snow;
It made me shiver.
It was cold as ice,
My first snow ever.

Why did I think
There would never be snow?
Life always pleasant —
What did I know?

Now all my dreams,
If they become frozen,
I’ll ever know that
In time they’ll be chosen.

Dreams do not die,
But for a time stilled.
One day resurrected,
By destiny filled.

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