Where is the place
I can call home?
At ocean shores,
Or mountains high,
In grassy plains,
Or deserts nigh?
Near rushing streams,
By forests green,
Or just in dreams
Will I be free?
Will I find rest
Upon a path
Strewn with my tears,
Or might I laugh?
In God I must
Seek out my rest.
And then at last
Will end my quest.
How much the ocean lifts my soul,
And fills my lungs with freshness full,
Clears cobwebs from a cluttered mind,
Breathes in new life, leaves cares behind.
In symphony the waves do roar,
They crash upon the sandy shore,
Wash, scour and sift the detritus,
And leave essential things for us.
Oh ocean, like my God so good,
Please cleanse my heart, if that you could.
Remove all bitterness and strife
And grant me peace for all my life.
When all seems dark,
When evil seems to reign,
Take up your cross,
And look at Christ again.
When clouds oppress,
And gather in a storm,
Yield all to Christ,
And let His Spirit form.
Forget the strife,
And let Him calm the storm.
Let Him give life;
To Him your thoughts conform.
Come down, come down, Lord Jesus,
And feed your hungry sheep.
Come down, come down, oh Father,
Bring water from the deep.
Come down, oh Holy Spirit,
Refresh our weary souls.
Come down to earth,
And give new birth,
Let sin and sadness
Transform to gladness.
Cast doubt and fear
Away from here.
Let dark deeds die
And hatred lie
Lifeless
And defeated.
Lift up our souls
And take control.
Forgive our sins;
Bring life within.
Let parch-ed tongues
Your wine imbibe —
Refreshing pools
Bring on the cool
Of souls made bright
Within Your light.
THAT FEARFUL THING
That fearful thing did quiet lurk.
It disappeared into the dirt.
I dreaded to that thing go near;
With apprehension I did fear.
I set a trap to catch that thing.
I’d catch it good, with trap to sting.
I knew it must a monster be.
I knew it lurked to get at me.
What wonder did my eyes behold —
‘Twas not a rat, but lizard bold.
It looked benign, it stared at me.
It did not jump — sat quietly.
And now I’ve given the thing a name.
My fear misplaced — it’s not to blame.
—————————————————————————————————————————
IN DARK SHADOWS
In dark shadows live our fears;
In half-seen pictures, fear comes near.
In hidden places lurk our doubts;
In darkest alleys, doubt comes out.
Our thoughts get twisted, tied in knots —
Contorted, garbled — truth it’s not.
Imagination — it runs wild.
We’re fearful like a little child.
Until the light of love turns on,
Until God’s truth shines like the sun.
Until we give Him all our fears —
And then He calms and dries our tears.
A little girl can sometimes sing,
Can flit about on angel’s wings,
Can dance with fairies, now unseen,
Can be so sweet, or contrary.
A little girl loves daddy’s whiskers,
She doesn’t mind that they are ticklish.
A little girl sits on his lap;
Head on his chest, she takes a nap.
A little girl has wondrous dreams,
On unicorns she’ll catch moonbeams.
She gathers starlight in her hands,
She dreams of being a princess grand.
A little girl in time grows up.
She gives up dolls and other stuff.
But every woman’s heart can tell —
Inside, the child is living still.
There’s an ache inside
Which we try to hide.
A great abyss
which can go amiss.
An empty hole
Inside your soul,
Where something cries
“Do not deny!”.
Where children’s eyes
Are full of wonder.
Where dreams and schemes
Are torn asunder.
In which we know
There’s something more.
A cavern, cave
In which we rave.
And if you want
That hole to fill
You must bow down,
You must be still.
Bird songs billowing from the hedges,
From meadows, grasses, trees and sedges.
Twitter, toot, and hoot, and tweet,
Their song and melody so sweet.
Flowers timid peep from ground;
Will the warmth still be around?
Frogs in creeks at night do croak,
Parents take walks with little folk.
The sun can warm us as we walk,
But clouds are good to cool us off.
Still a chill in morning air,
But new life battles all our cares.
Well, you just can’t be good enough for some people,
Their standards are high’r than a steeple.
No matter what you do, your intentions are cruel,
At least that’s what they seem to think of you.
No matter how hard you try, they’re still gonna cry
That you’ve been unfair, that you really don’t care.
That you’re really a jerk, and your ways just don’t work.
Well, maybe they’re right; it seems to be my plight
To be misunderstood, no matter how good.
Yes, it must be my fault, looks like guiltless I’m not.
Okay, I’m not perfect; I just can’t live up to it.
Your standard, that is. I’m just not a whiz
At following your ways — I’m in a daze.
So it’s time to chill out; quit making a shout
About things that don’t matter; stop all the chatter.
Give it a rest; it’ll be for the best.
How could I do that awful thing,
With words to bite, with tongue to sting?
How could I cut off other’s words,
To thus imply, “You are absurd.”?
With ease I fall and don’t suspect
The words I say might have effect.
And sure myself have often known
The hurt of words from other’s tongue.
So, grant us, Lord, we do implore,
Our tongue to hold, our words to store.
And let instead encourg’ment come,
So we’ll have peace when day is done.
