Believer

Like the sunrise Wakes the day

Your spirit blooms inside -

Brilliant, it becomes the way

As well as it’s your guide

Into the endless realm of God

Where backwards is the rule

And giving up means winning

As you sacrifice yourself

On the cross that is your purpose

In the life that you have found,

Never more to count the cost

Nor control the solid ground.

As He sees you so do I,

A vessel nearly broken…

But the cracks let through His light

Now your heart is breaking open

And the power of His hand

Gently taking yours in grip

Will create a work of art

Far beyond your wildest dreams

Until one day you realize

Your life is on display –

A gorgeous testimony to

The one whose Spirit now is you.

New Day

I'll face the day
With head upturned
Unto the lonely sun
And wait until I've heard you speak
In terms forever known:
The tickling wind,
The bird in song,
The light that brings the day,
And with them comes your timeless peace,
The life, in truth, the Way.

The Seeds of Doubt

The seeds of doubt grow a vigorous vine
Climbing its way to the top of the mind
Where spreading confusion takes root as the norm,
Replacing the truth as it mimics its form.

This kind is fed from the mind's rationale
Disproving beliefs which the heart doth avow
And sinking its thorns into flesh crying out
For desires unspoken it can't live without.

The fruit of this vine is unmasked unbelief
Choking the heart into which it has creeped
And blocking the hope and the love, even peace,
From the light of a life where they once found release.

Awake

My heart awakened
To the dream
Before I could recall it
And within began to seem
As though a lad befallen
With the new sun of a day
In which he's free
And come what may,
Forever true to himself he remains.

Thus now awakened
Ne'er to sleep,
I can not still its pounding beat
Upon the walls I've placed it in,
Demanding that it be allowed
To walk again
Amongst the proud,
Unshackled and unhindered by
The fears of she it lives inside.

The Universal Language

There is a language spoken

‘Round the Earth

For those who stop to hear;

The signs exist for all the senses,

Though too seldom we draw near

Enough to slow the pace of life

To what was once intended here

When this great language of creation

Was the music to all ears.



Communicated without words,

It resonates within

The hearts and souls

Of those who seek

The source of all that is…

‘Til in that moment we perceive

And we are one with Him,

A part of legend, every one,

Spoken to exist.

INDEED

Is this a brighter day, indeed,
When underneath the yellow light
There lies a vein of darkness deep
That hides me from your sight?

Is this the best that life can give,
A constant struggle just to live
Beyond the pull of nature's scar
And wicked thoughts of wanting hearts?

Is this of sin's result the worst?
A blessing traded for a curse,
The mind its own law to fulfill
No matter we're outside your will?

Is this the hope of ages past
Some proof that suffering does not last
And justice finally has its day,
Though when it comes no one can say?

Love Such As Yours

A love such as yours
Includes, inherently,
A measure of mercy
Greater in quantity,
Finer in purity
Than the world of water
In the sum of seas.

A love such as yours
Offers, organically,
Tangible touches
Softer in texture,
Warmer in wonder
Than the westerly winds
In seventy summers.

A love such as yours
Knows, naturally,
The object's outcome
Beyond prediction,
More certain than hope
As right as returning rain
On parched plains pre-diluvian.

COBWEBS

The cobwebs are many,
Sticky and determined
They secure the unused in place,
Skillfully trapping the haunted
Reminders of what has been.

Covered in tendrils elusive,
Forgotten but not removed,
They beg restoration
Like a dusty cathedral’s
Glass stained with memories.

Guarded by the subtle ward
They remain untempting
Yet in time we are drawn in
By the need to cleanse
And discover anew the forsaken.

The Honest Truth

How we work the honest truth,
Shaping and conforming it
As with mindful carver’s tools
Until it looks appealing to the eye,
The lust of which is satisfied
As the conscience rests, appeased
By reason’s creativity.

We sculpt our rationalizations
So carefully, turning them over
In our manipulative hands
While regarding their beauty,
So pleasant to behold
In the light of our own will,
Even worth taking pride in.

We sell these imitations,
Using borrowed words to justify
Obvious differences in character,
Crafting our justifications lengthy
And spitting in the silent face
Of the one and only artist,
Smugly closed to His critique.

THE CHASM

Where are you while I wander
Into the wilderness
Of my own making?
Do you see it too,
The stark creation
Of imagination
With so little to show?

If I were lost here nomadic,
Would you leave me be
Or pursue and rescue?
The plain is barren and rugged,
Sharp on the feet
That do not preach
The gospel of peace.

Here there is no one to listen;
Seclusion feels familiar
In the chasm of thought,
Incapable of getting across -
Such that when I call out
To the dust and clouds
Even you do not answer.

I would shut and lock the gates
If only that would stop me
From coming here again
To search for that which was lost
Before hope betrayed,
When dreams became lies
For the foolish at heart.