Monday, May 27, 2013

Linda M. Crate- Three Poems

no greater love 
sometimes Your scarred hands are the
only ones that remember me,
brushing away all my tears i cry into being
taming the sea of emotions that try
to erode my heart into oblivion — 
You smile at me when the world shakes it's
head at me in disappointment, create
rainbows to restore my hope after seasons 
of fierce rain; i wonder why You chose me to serve
you when i'm but one pearl in the world
flawed and broken, spilling moon silver dew
upon the grass when the sun's meant to shine — 
Your patience and kindness has led me
to still waters that wash away my fears, and i have
nothing to repay You with; still You remain my friend.

once i thought i was nothing,
but You told me i meant something to You
took me out of the sea of my self pity
made me open my eyes to those whom i had not seen
spoke to me kindness to bestow upon them
to dance rivers of joy in my veins
when i thought only darkness could remain
Your scarred hands bled for me,
and i could not understand why this should be
You told me Your gift was for all 
that they should all be spared the agony sometimes our
own bad choices bring, and so i sing the same
song as your doves because i know no greater kindness
will or ever will be bestowed upon me. 

heaven bound 
tongues wag
in church and out of church
wonder what this love is
God speaks of and Jesus is because
this town is rife with gossip and judgment calls
it doesn't sound like forgiveness
nor compassion that spilled from the mouth
and heart of our Saviour;
i'd like to nail these sins upon the cross,
and let them die as He did
without letting them rise from the dead
as He did —
judge not lest ye be judged
seems to have been forgotten because it's too convenient
to pray for forgiveness they seem to forget that sin
is sin and none is greater in the Maker's eyes;
a murder and a liar are all the same to God,
maybe if we understood that we wouldn't do the things we do —
perfection is a hard thing to aim for being flesh we know
we fail, but it's too easy to be reluctant to change
falling into the excuses that we're only men
called to be different we ought not lay down in the dust and scream defeat
so easily we should strive to be better people for our Lord who
crafted us all from the dust making us each special and beautiful in our own way
to touch the world with His light, to turn all eyes heaven bound.

Friday, May 3, 2013

Steven Jacobson- Three Poems

Light of Gold

the sun reaches out with tendrils of
radiant splendor, stretching forth across
the heavens and redefining our world in
longing reverence.  the light bursts
through the clouds, showering and adorning
the land and sea.  the hues mottle and color
the mountains and valley below.
life is fruitful and full of wonder,
and just as the sun shines in our faces,
so God wants His glory to shine in all
our hearts.

Abounding Child

the body of a child like
a vessel holding precious liquid,
the mind of a child like
an empty slate board,
the innocence of a child like
a pure and golden,
the heart of a child like
overflowing carafe of vintage wine,
the soul of a child like
rich and resonating with love and laughter,
the spirit of a child like
an eagle soaring high with grace and glory abounding,
the love of a child like
pure woolly white driven snow covering a pristine landscape,
the life of a child like
ageless and free forever and ever……

Light N’ Life

the stars circle spiraling
inward taking on new meaning
as the twilight fills the air.
the stark randomness walks with
memorable stature and form.
we are forever mesmerized
taking part in a grander
scheme being of light and dark.
the sun playing and dancing
apart of a deeper thought
and forever coupled with the
forthcoming of light and life.

Gerald Bosacker- A Poem

Gamboling grasshoppers fritter and play
devouring all that stands in their way,
but saving squat for harsh winter’s sway,
daring demise with ho-hum eclat.
Consider then, the hardworking bee
who stores up his efforts for you and me,
eschewing rewards for that industry
while doubting not, his mortality.
I fault my self, but which are you?
Are you part of the enslaved few,
shunning life’s pleasure just to accrue
the assets of those more serene than you?
   When does ambition become greed? All noble virtues become a bad word when taken to excess.  Thrifty to excess, becomes miserly, and cautious turns craven.  The grasshopper honeybee analogy has long endured but I play with the platitudes involved, seeking wry humor.
   I tried to identify with the hard-working bee, but I would not tolerate a keeper taking more than half of the products from my hardwork for his gain, like the honeybee suffers.  Would you?
    Likewise, I could not linkup with grasshoppers chewing up somebody’s hard work.  Most of my peers fall somewhere in between the examples of hard work and sybaritic play and consumption, I hope.  If I drive someone to their dictionary, well and good.

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Linda M. Crate- Three Poems

make me more than this moment 
Caster of fears
drive them away
they are crippling and debilitating today 
Maker of rainbows
dance some joy in me
let the scars of yesterday fade
into Your blue jade oceans;
if i must be a prophet let me be as Moses
overcoming my fear to speak to people
let me not be melancholy as Elijah
if i have a heart let it be like
David's who was a man of Your word 
let me not fall in these narrow streams of mankind
for You made me for something more than this.

i see broken halos of light
everywhere i walk
have Your angels forgot their posts
or are they the fallen ones
whose judgment is yet to come?
are they the guardians You sent to
protect us from all the vile things
that deceive us and try to ensnare us in their
clinging ropes or are they just shadows
of a past long forgotten?
dry bones that need life breathed into them
as Ezekiel did ages ago, i feel sometimes i am one
of those bones brittle and frail i need to remember my purpose
so please breathe it back into my heart as only You
could for i know i am meant to rise from these
sorrows that i won't always be broken,
but sometimes it's hard to believe You'll shine Your
light through someone flawed as me.

Your wisdom is all around me
breathing in the clouds,
growing in the grass,
hanging in the arms of trees
so why is it that so many cannot see
Your face? why is it that they can
see these beautiful things,
and Your imprint lost to them with eyes
blind yet seeing they walk on;
i hope one day Your wisdom will shine upon 
them as i cannot bear the thought of what
should happen to them, otherwise.