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some old poems (circa 2000 or so)

August 26, 2006

Concrete Jungle

Concrete jungle life’s a blur.
Which way to go, which way to turn?
Pavement warm beneath my feet,
the sidewalk my “hearth”,
my “home” the street.
Is this my fate,
what’s left of my life?
To live by the gun,
to die by the knife?
Things come and go,
wealth is fleeting.
Love and protection keep my heart beating.

The Mountain

The mountain stood before us,
the path was unclear.
The question we all asked was
“Where do we go from here?”
Surrounded by the unknown,
we often couldn’t see the road that had been paved,
and didn’t know what God’s will would be.
Searching for answers,
we pulled together facing the challenges
that would only make us better.
And now the time has come
to go our separate ways.
But the tie that binds us
through the years
will be when we each pray.

The Rock

Standing on the Rock, the waves crashing to and fro,
The water swirling all around with nowhere left to go.
I cling to the Rock on which I stand,
safe in the knowledge that my life is in His hands.
The sands shift as the water rises,
but when I hold fast to the Rock
I can handle all of life’s surprises.

When Troubles and Trials

When troubles and trials my life may assail,
by God’s strength I will prevail.
By His might and power,
each day and every hour.
Walking in His light,
surrounded by His love,
challenges may come and try to defeat.
But my God will all of my needs meet.
The waves crash on the shore,
and just when I think I can face no more,
He reaches down to guide and to soothe.
My fears and questions He will remove.

Am I Alone?

My friends are gone, I’m all alone.
Why did they leave me on my own?
Desolate, deserted, abandoned and shamed.
What happened to the love You gave?
Have You left me to defend myself?
To battle against the fires of Hell?
Will you be there to strengthen and protect
or is fighting alone what to expect?
My friends are gone, but I’m not alone.
You haven’t left me on my own.

The Crowning Glory

Mountains have stood before us,
valleys have kept us apart.
But nothing could block our way,
because when we were together we had heart.
From many diverse routes we came.
On this united journey, no one knew the way.
Though the road we shared twisted and turned,
nothing could keep us from this day.
The crowning glory of years of hard work
lies just beyond this door.
And with memories and lessons learned,
we face the best that life has in store.

When/Now

When I was young, there were things I didn’t know.
Now I’m grown, and what do I know? That there is evil in the world.
When I was young, there were things I couldn’t feel.
Now I’m grown, and what do I feel? Sadness, heartache, a need to heal.
When I was young, there were things I didn’t hear.
Now I’m grown, and what do I hear? A people crying out in fear.
When I was young, there were things I couldn’t see.
Now I’m grown, and what do I see? A world falling to it’s knees.

The Day

“She’s dead,” he said as tears streamed down his face.
“We just found out. It’s a big shock.” His words seemed out of place.
“She’s gone,” I thought with a look of disbelief.
“So young, so full of life.” I thought through my grief.
“I heard,” I said when my friend told me.
“She was too young.” This isn’t right, it cannot be.
“Why her?” I asked and prayed through my tears.
“Ours is not the choice to make.” came back through all the fears

Reflections

Looking into the mirror, what do I see?
What kind of person looks back at me?
Gentle, loving, caring, kind?
Who’s looking back? What will I find?
Gazing past the surface, beyond what appears to be,
just who is it that looks back at me?
A heart full of laughter? A heart full of tears?
A heart that’s been broken for so many years?
Just who is it looking back through the glass?
What kind of memories, what kind of past?

They Say There’s A Time For Everything

They say there’s a time for everything:
A time to die, A time to live.
A time to cry, A time to laugh.
What happens when the time to die comes too soon?
Can you go on living?
What about the time to cry?
Do you still laugh on the outside?
They say there’s a time for everything:
A time to hate, A time to love.
A time to reap, A time to sow.
What happens when you’re taught to hate?
How do you learn to love?
What about when you sow?
Can you know what you will reap?

The Battle

Today I fought a battle
that I never thought I’d win.
A battle not against flesh and blood,
but a battle from within.
The enemy was closing in,
the victory almost his,
when a still, small voice
spoke to my heart,
and this is what it said:
“My child, if you want to win the victory,
just put your hand in mine,
and fully trust in me.
The enemy will sneak up,
and attack you from behind.
Lean on my steady arms,
and perfect rest you’ll find.”
The war was not won that day,
but a victory was given
to the heart that was open and listening
to the still, small voice that said:
“My child, if you want to triumph over the enemy,
the battle will be long,
and the end you may not see.
But if you want to be set free
from the bondage of the fight,
lean on my mighty arms,
to bring you through the night.”

There’s More To Us. . .

There’s more to us than jeans and sneakers
There’s more behind our eyes than space
There’s more to our dreams than money or power.
There’s more to us than many will ever see.
Our strength comes not from others,
but from ourselves.
Our inspiration is not dependent on those who come and go
but on a constant Force in each of our lives.
Our hopes are not built on the sands of insecurity,
but on the Rock of knowledge and understanding.
Our lives are not a result of random events,
but a cohesive whole representing our challenges and triumphs.
We bring to the table many different skills.
Some are artists, others business oriented.
We share our gifts with others freely,
that we may learn and grow through them.
We move on in our lives better for having known each other,
our lives enriched by our friends and experiences.
Memories last for a lifetime, although they may fade.
Laughter is heard for years, if only in our hearts.
Troubles are lessened, but only when shared.
Character is formed, when lessons are learned.

I Know

I know that my Redeemer lives,
and that he holds the victory.
After my body is destroyed,
it is Him I will see.
I know that my Redeemer lives,
and in Him I know I am safe.
And when by trouble I am bound,
He brings me to the quiet place.
I know that my Savior reigns,
and He will return someday.
For that day I long and yearn,
when with Him I’ll be to stay.
I know that my God stands
in power and in might
to strengthen and protect.
I know He’ll help me fight.
I know my Redeemer is Love
and the power that He holds
to defeat the strongest of Satan’s dark strongholds.

My Father

The pencil races across the paper.
The artists’ hand moves faster than the eye can follow.
Dark lines magically appear where once there was nothing.
Steadily, an image emerges from rough,
sketchy lines to sharply defined curves and edges.
Eyes of fire, hair like blackest night,
hands that soothe the smallest hurt.
A back that has borne the brunt of the heaviest weight.
Legs faster than midnight winds.
Arms that have picked his child up when they’ve fallen.
But these images are foreign to me.
A father’s touch I’ve never felt.
I’ve never looked into those eyes,
or seen the hair now gray and silver.
On those shoulders have I never been carried,
nor by those legs ever chased.
Those arms never rocked me to sleep,
or carried me when I was hurt.

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