Someday I’ll walk in heav’nly lands,
By crashing waves and sunlit sands,
Shall walk beneath an azure sky,
On grassy hills and meadows lie.
No more will furrows cross my brow,
No more my worries back to bow,
No more to let my peace be stirred,
By frowning face or angry word.
Then will I let God’s love enfold,
Will tell His story bright and bold,
Will shine forth with His glorious light,
My weakness showing forth His might.
Love’s not so much about …
How good things feel,
Romantic fantasies,
The wildest ecstasies.
Love’s when I give to you;
And you give to me.
When I serve you,
And you serve me.
When I forgive,
And you forgive me;
And sometimes all above
Might not be simultaneously.
Love is when
We talk it out,
Shout it out,
Cast about —
Find a way
To understand,
For you and I,
God’s wondrous plan.
Love is not
The glitzy clothes,
The plastic-surgery nose,
The fishnet pantyhose,
The painted lips,
The swivelly hips,
And lacy slips.
Though those might have their place sometimes,
And not always to be condemned,
The love that’s everlasting, true,
Looks in the soul and finds a friend —
Another soul with which to view
The world — both hand in hand
Until life’s destined end.
— September 29, 2013
Swift Runner met Delicate Flower,
And under the silver moon,
He asked for her hand in marriage.
Their canoe flew swiftly
Over the waters,
Gliding smoothly, like oil
On the glass-still lake.
The storm came unexpectedly,
And when it was over,
He could not find
His beloved Flower.
She comes to him in dreams
On soft summer nights,
Gliding on the perfume
Of mock-orange flowers.
— April 22, 2012
Joy in your sorrow,
hugs in your pain,
hope for tomorrow,
beginning again.
How to hug the world’s pain?
A hug could seem so trite.
To let hope enter in again,
Make heavy burden light?
How to ease the suffering
Of untold millions’ blight?
How to bring a healing balm,
A quiet calm, a lasting peace,
A heart at ease, a healing light?
Oh heavy burden, how to bear?
The Savior’s groan does pierce the air.
Looking back, what will I leave?
Sadness, joy, or bickering?
Will people smile as they remember
Those moments spent, us two together?
Will they laugh, or rather cry?
Be gratified, or give a sigh?
How did I spend my life on earth?
The pain endured, how much was worth?
The weeds, the wheat, the flowers strewn
Will be the writing on my tomb.
[Written while watching the movie “Waste Land”, about people who pick through garbage to get recyclable materials, in Rio de Janeiro]
You are loved
in Jesus’ name.
It’s not your riches,
nor any fame.
Not what you did,
or didn’t do,
What things you own,
or your great school.
It’s not how many
friends you have —
No boyfriend, girlfriend?
don’t be sad.
Lift up your head,
Because you’re loved.
Are we rich in any way? It may not be material things ….
————————————————————
Invited in, I shyly stood,
Not knowing if I really should.
You see, I had so much to lose —
A fancy coat, expensive shoes,
My pride of life, my love of booze.
[The door too small to take it all … ]
Undecided, there I stood,
But I could see beyond that door
Some happy people, singing all.
But I would almost have to crawl
To get within that little hall.
I’d have to bend, might have to kneel.
My fear, my pride, I sure could feel.
I turned around, dejected still.
I wandered long; I wandered far,
But in my mind could see the door
Still beckoning, still off’ring hope.
While wandering, I lost the shoes,
The fancy coat, my taste for booze.
Somehow they didn’t seem to give
My soul its very-needed lift.
[My feet were calloused; my soul was bruised …]
I lost my pride; where did it go?
The things I’d thought; they were not so.
Inside-out, it seemed my life;
Continuing, but filled with strife.
Then humbly came I to the door.
I knelt; I crawled, into the hall.
With tears of joy I was received,
And my own tears, my fear, relieved.
Look to Him, look to Him,
Though you wander in the dark.
Fly high, take wing,
Sing like the lark.
He will triumph,
He will win,
He will overcome your sin –
Let Him in.
Stay strong, keep on,
Like the eagle you will be
Flying on to destiny.
Fly high, do not fear,
Your Lord and Master,
He draws near.
Great and awesome, mighty God,
You who made the heavens and earth,
And every soul that comes to birth.
We do not understand Your ways,
Oblique to every mind are they.
How often we misspend our days.
We struggle, strive, to keep alive.
We fight, we hate, offense do take,
‘Til understanding comes – too late?
Your mercy, grace, so fathomless;
Your justice, anger, so restrained,
Until the time You have ordained.
Your patience for us wayward souls,
Your love expressed a thousand-fold —
Infinity we now behold.
How do we You now comprehend?
How, small soul, your ways to mend?
His mercy triumphs in the end.
clarakatalin 