Category: Poetry

Lovesick

There is no one who is beautiful enough
To fit the needs of someone
Who has looked too long at You.
Why do I keep looking out for love
When I know that there is no one
Who’s as wonderful as You?

Lord, bind my heart in brokenness
Stir me on to peace
Wrap me up in linen, that I may
Resign myself to living
Here with You forever
Loving no one else but You

I have given myself over
To the mercy of your hand
If you have seen the way that Love has gone
Lead me to that Rock that’s Higher

That I too may be poured out
as a drink offering to You
Fresh blood mixed with the water of my tears
I am broken… for love
I am living… for You
You are what I’m living for, my Love

Keep my wandring heart from looking
To the left or to the right
Wrap my heart in brokenness that I may
See my love tonight
You are . . . what I . . . long for
Every . . . time I . . . close my . . . eyes

Keep me patient as I wait for you, my love

I Was Born For This

I was born for the sake of running
That my footbeats would fall to the sound of Your rhythm
I was born for the sake of breathing
That I could send Your wind
I was born for the sake of living

That my crystal heart could shine
With the candle that You set burning
That every heartbeat would pulsate
With living fire

The glory of God has come
I was born for this

Random Thoughts of Joy

building burdens on our own backs
we groan under distressing weight
till someone comes and takes it from us
we do not know where we have been

Sitting dismayed at the sacrifice
required to enter in
We weep when we do not realize
Someone’s already been

What I must give up
Is what is not good for me
What I must at all costs carry
is the gold I do not recognize

Nothing strains like the burden
of a backward vision
My life would be joy for me
if I could get my world turned right

God grant me grace
to see my own sinning
my problem is not my pain
but my misapprehension

*The whole earth is filled
With the Glory of God*
-Is 6:3

Satisfaction

You do not protect me
From the pain of my life’s troubles
You lead me in the way of danger
That I may cling to You

I cling to You relentlessly
Like a weaned child to its mother
Not pulling, sucking, striving . . .
I am at peace

You are my Peace
When there is every sign of danger
You are my Satisfaction
When Wanting comes my way

I trust in You
My Shepherd-Friend

Trust

You know how I try to be
I wear my heart on the outside of my breast
That anyone who wants can see and criticize it
That any man may wound me
That, as best I can, I may be touched by anyone
That my Father may be pleased

My heart is not my own
To protect as others do
I do not know the way of it
It belongs unto my King
To use as He sees fit

May my meditations yet be pleasing
Unto You

Response to Wordsworth’s ‘Intimations…’ ode

The evening is longer than the morning
Yet it seems so short
Because we compare it to the rest of day.
At dawn we forget the darkness
Until the grass is dry,
When the waxing turns to wane,
We see it, and remember,
And curse the dying day
Not because we hate twilight
But, “Too soon! Too soon!” we say.
Whether it be summer or midwinter
“Too soon! Too soon!” we always say.

Would You Believe?

Would you believe to know me
That once I was lost
Would you believe to know me
That I gave up everything
At the foot of the cross

Would you believe to know me
That once I was the blackest sinner
Stained with every crime
Would you believe to know me
That Jesus saved my life

I was destitute and hopeless
Waiting for the end
I was crouching in my pain and turmoil
Longing for a friend
And as I sat there hopeless
Clinging to my shame and guilt
I saw a promise rising – Risked everything to grab it –
And now I stand here broken
Would you believe to know me
That I could live?

Epitaph of Poetry

Here lie some broken lines of poetry
Some seem to rhyme
Some do not
Gathered here they were
by a careless hand
Who threw them out
as fast as seed on the wind

Hush! who knows?
Perhaps they shall take root
and grow into something useful
beet back the maize
of labyrinthine wordplays
And come at last to an open place
of quiet meaning

Or they may be eaten
by some mindless creatures
cracked upon the rocks
But I will not be someone
who cares about the consequence of words
Let them fly free and who knows
One word may yet change a Nation

Authority and Love

Jonathan leaned on Jesus’ breast
And breathed in out a sigh
And on his friend’s behest, he asked
The question that no other could get by.

And Jesus spoke no mystery
No story did he tell
And though plain, ‘twas secretly
So none would know, save those who know him well.

Mirriam rose when she was bid
And came before her Lord.
She said in quiet, a few still words
He had already heard before.

And Jesus wept, cried bitterly
At the pain that he had caused
He saw her heart, that loved him dearly
And knew no other law.

The others left.
The Magdelene, she stayed
And though she shuddered silently
Her heart was not afraid.

A gardener’s voice:
The victor spoke her name
He put off triumph that he might touch
The life he died to save