Outside time
the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit met
and in full communion and perfect accord
they said
in covenant let us come and
for covenant let us go
and draw near to man
that he may know us
and adore us
and commune with us again
Let me be propitiated
I shall do this thing
I will send
I will go
and I will strengthen
and comfort your soul
Let him come to me and look upon my death
let him come and eat my flesh
let him drink full of my blood
as I have drunk deep of thy wrath
let him come to me and rest
let him come to me and look and in me believe
for as I have arisen so let him with me rise
for to us I have now him reconciled
and surely brought him nigh
and he cries out listen to his plea
skim off skim off
these base impurities
that i might know more
and ever treasure thee!
My Father I am thy child
and in you and you alone find true peace
My Jesus I am thy prayer
and only live through you who intercedes
My Comforter and Helper
I because of you know the words of God
I long to be with my Lord
forever
in the places where you are!
Be near me, indwell me, dear Spirit
show me how I ought to live
your heart is new, your joy is true
see now the strength I give you for each day!
Pray for me, pray for me, dear Jesus
show me the true and better way
it is done, I have done it
only through me will you see the Father’s face
Have mercy upon me my Father
i still feel so cold and full of sin
consider my love, my dear child
the work I did long ago begin
will not falter
for I who chose you and who knows you
will surely keep you to the end
what a wondrous thing it is that i should be called a child of God
as I step through the doorway and above me glance and see
the blood smeared over my head that came from a Lamb who died
and consider that this has been the plan since outside eternity
and now feel the winds of the Spirit rustle through my soul
i tremble to know that i am loved and i am held
and that by divine sympathy and mercy am made truly whole
oh i feel the pulsing of the lifeblood that spills out as these words
the blood that for me was spilled points to the divine reality of God
and now I hesitate to appropriate that treasure of eternity that is mine
but nothing do I want if it is not in actuality the reality of life in Christ
I long to obey the commandments that have been given
I long to be found in communion in the church that is my home
I long to be known by the one who’s for his Father’s glory risen
I long to be a clay temple of the Spirit who somehow fills my frame
and now and forever I lift my voice and whisper glory glory glory
to the Lord God Almighty forever and always glory to your name.
As it is written so shall it always be,
glory to the Father, Son, and Spirit
glory to the Holy Trinity
peace to mankind through the cross of Jesus
and may all who come to him know the bliss
of delighting in our God for eternity.
It is good for us to be here.
It is good to gaze upon the face of God.
Tag: poetry
Promise Kept
I love this good grey coat
for it reminds me of my time abroad
when it kept me warm even when the water
poured
and all my notebooks in its many pockets
were filled with notes and maps
and prayers and poems
and all the little things
that cross your mind when
you’re in a country not your own
see now what i write in this notebook spread before me?
the candlelight flickers across the half-written scribblings
as i consider even now that i walk as a pilgrim in a foreign land
so let me fill these pages with all the wonders that spur my thoughts
to spiral further up and further in
consider this far country to which i go.
Trials
sometimes i wish my pen didn’t run out of ink
just when inspiration strikes
and i finally have something to say
alas more common my pen sloshes full
and in morbid fascination
i fill the pages with lines
no one cares to read
not even me
Across the Sea
for upon this autumn evening
when the air is really rather fine
and there is not even a hint of rain
i hum a tune and unzip my coat
now it’s time to let my thoughts tumble
as I walk down winterstone lane
i hear the click clack of my boots upon the cobbles
and brush my gaze past the shopfronts on either side
and now look up to see the twinkling streetlights
see here night is almost nigh
and surely this is a night that’s ripe for poetry
and i say that last aloud as she walks up to where i wait
she pulls her hands from her coat pockets and swiftly hugs me
and i hear her smile as she replies
every night is a night for poetry
especially where you’re involved
so write me something please but first maybe let’s duck in here
and grab a bite to eat
i’m famished and could really use a good beef stew and perhaps
some mashed potatoes too
you read my mind my love
and inwards we go exulting in the warmth that flickers from the hearth
we grab a table by the fireplace and i take her coat and drape it over her chair
and then she sits and then i sit and then we laugh
what now she says tears of joy shining on her face
let’s exult in the glories that surround us
let’s meditate on the paths that brought us here
let’s rejoice in the God who made us
let’s talk until the stars grow faint
and after that let me walk you to your door
do you consider that a proper plan?
i have no complaints she says her eyes sparkling
Climbing the Old Brick Wall
here we go – a meditation on finer things
maybe a well buttered baked potato
or perhaps lilies and buttercups
or maybe just coffee on the end table
and a candle gently flickering
for it is early enough that my mind still dwells
on last night’s dreams
and the fact that throughout ran a common theme
a light in the darkness
and through the forest running a silver stream
shall I follow and see where it leads?
I turn another page and see words blazing forth
speaking to me of kingdom far
but somehow also near and present
for as my mind dwells on the already but not yet
and ponder on what has been and what shall be
I push aside the thorns and thistles that attempt to bind
and now think on the beauty of Jesus Christ
for i am his and he is mine
and i need no lesser glories
it is only grace that holds my hand
A Mighty Fortress
i would like a dollop of whipped cream this morning good sir
perched on top of my coffee and promising bliss
and then i hope for that wonderful moment
where the dark black bitter swirls with the manna from heaven
and on my tongue it sings
yes please
and across the counter he hands to me the cup and smiles
take this with our compliments you come here often enough
enjoy this on your drive and think of us here toiling
and come again some time just to read and chat
and listen to the morning murmur
i’ll make you another coffee just the way you like it
a new pot from fresh ground dark roast beans
strong and bold and piping hot
and yes with extra whip
She Understands
it’s simply grand sitting here under the big oak
feeling the warmth of the sun upon my face
as i close my eyes and smile
but can it be
i hear music upon the breeze
it sounds of violet and crumbled dreams
violin achingly played
i know the feeling
for sometimes my heart breaks like that too
Forever Next Door Neighbors
red blossoms upon her cheeks
as she exclaims in tones of ecstasy
see here i left only a few hours ago
and now the kitchen sparkles
but more than that
a pot of sauce on the stove
and i see a freshly baked loaf of bread
and some garlic butter
and a wedge of cheese and is that wine
well i do declare
i suppose it just may be dinner time
Alternate
maybe tonight the cafe won’t be empty
for she might walk in that door and make
my day
but perhaps not
i suppose i might make it to the end of my book without being
interrupted
at least i’ll know the ending
Faded Jasmine
I compare my stanzas to that woman’s prose and instinctively feel the gap between
Us that stretches and towers over like a giant sunflower mocking me
Maybe yes it is true that her wells go deeper but that doesn’t assuage my sense of supreme
Inadequacy that simply weighs upon me as a hand upon my shoulder a finger
Scrawling that I am found wanting but perhaps that is ok if my emptiness is filled by the divine
Everlasting water even if she writes lines of such exquisite beauty and did when she was only eighteen so what good am I
Scribbling stories still to be told I suppose and so for now I’ll just turn the page and read another few sentences that play the ivoried keys ever so
Sweetly reminding me of the open door to home at which the candle
Flickers
Something Weird 