Grand Canyon
On first sight,
Like little children,
With eyes agog and mouths agape —
Paralyzed in awe and wonder
Or crying,
Strangely still,
Feeling humble
Ancient, ancient rocks
Tell God’s secrets
In silence
Archive for the ‘Poems’ Category
On the Brink of Eternity
On the brink of eternity,
I pause and look behind —
The people known,
The work grindstones,
The things I owned —
What do they mean?
For nothing lasts,
And all must change,
And jumbled thoughts,
All disarranged —
Assail me.
Those people I looked up to
Seem to grow so small;
I don’t know them at all.
I cannot tell what God is doing —
What purpose does He have?
So many years ago,
All seemed bright and full of promise,
But gradually, the light did dim,
And now the world seems grim.
I cannot tell what God is doing,
But surely He lives —
As He slowly writes my story.
A Different Path
This life is one of tears and pain;
We once get up, and fall again.
Evil, sin, seep through the cracks;
The heart of man — God’s peace it lacks.
And yet, with patient, open arms,
Our Savior calls us from all harm.
A different path He offers us —
Of peace, of joy, of deep’ning trust.
When evil grows, when peace is shattered,
Cling to the cross; His Love’s what matters.
Have patience, and with growing faith,
Let God be guide to glorious fate.
And Thus in Heaven
How small I am
In Your immensity;
How ignorant
In Your luminosity.
Who am I
That You should care for me?
A wretched creature —
Yet destined for eternity.
How tiny I am
In Your vast universe;
And yet, invited,
With Your Heart to converse.
Participating
In Your joy and sorrow —
Through present, past
And all tomorrows.
In Your crosses, trials,
I can partake.
And thus in heaven
Your face will contemplate.
Winter Walk
Whipped-cream waves
Of frosty foam
And winter white.
Wind whips at your face;
Pull your hat on tight.
Weak heat of the sun,
But still so bright.
Something suddenly moves;
Now seagulls take flight.
The world is alive;
Let us walk in the light.
At the Cafe
At the cafe/grill — a Monday.
It’s slow at 9 a.m. —
Not the bustle of a Saturday.
Low, soft voices
Of Spanish and English;
The frying pan sizzling.
We’re the privileged —
A day off,
When everyone else works.
At the other cafe
I saw a man outside in the cold,
His head in his hand,
Mumbling to himself.
I feel so helpless sometimes
In wanting to help others.
Passing Through
Don’t hold on too tightly;
See the light shining brightly —
Let earthly things grow dim;
Hold onto life lightly.
Your wealth, your possessions,
But briefly will last.
What good do they do you,
When too closely grasped?
We’re just passing through,
And life’s but a gleam.
Just love for God and others
Makes worthy our theme.
We’re on our way through;
The world seems an illusion,
With dangers and snares,
Fraught with tears and confusion.
There’s just one exception:
The good that we live,
The love that we share
And compassion we give.
The Jungle
I am a part-time gardener;
this reflects some of my experience.
——-
I came upon a jungle ,
‘Twas hiding near a shed.
The vines o’er trees did tumble
And many vines were dead.
The dust was thick — caused coughing,
The dead leaves dense beneath;
The vines o’er shed were tumbling,
The sunlight they did seek.
Perhaps the vines were ancient,
Some dead and some alive;
A canopy they plaited;
O’er tree and shed they twined.
I hacked away, just thinking
The light I soon would see,
And cut blackberries underneath
On which no fruit could be.
What wonder! — I did notice
A rose beneath a vine,
And which privets obfuscated —
Still a true plant sublime.
So if you have blackberries,
Some privets, and some vines,
Just know that in the future
A jungle you may find.
The King Is Coming
The King is coming in mighty pow’r
We do not know the day nor hour
He’ll ride upon the thund’ring clouds
Midst lightning flashes and angel choirs
No longer will sin darken hearts
All sin away — its curse departs
In shining brilliance, true majesty,
The King is coming — all darkness flee!
Victory Near
When the forgiven learn to forgive,
When the poor give everything away,
When the broken learn to mend,
That’s when Jesus has his way.
When the striving let go,
When the conflicted surrender,
When we befriend our foes,
Then our hearts become tender.
When all seems to be defeat,
When expectations don’t meet,
When sorrows grow, with tales of woe,
Then our victory is near.
