Living Stones

Winter’s night has come and passed;
Spring’s day will never last;
Summer’s dawn is but a moment;
Fall’s eve knows nothing but torment.

Living and dying, we turn a new leaf,
Living each day we continue to seek
A voice that is true, in all ways just,
A voice from the desert, one in whom we can trust.

Wisdom’s words are quickly coming,
Are we to still follow that which is hollow?
Wisdom’s mirror is brightly shining,
Will we look to love’s defining?

Heed not the words of this day;
They too will come to pass,
For the last shall be first
And the first shall be last.

Seek not the emptiness of this day;
It too will not satisfy,
For these tempting moments
Are nothing but mirages of lies.

Be like living stones,
Stones in a river.
Let the waters of Life
Rush over you in cool currents.

For stones do not waver
In times of trouble
Since they are bound together
In a purpose so noble.

For living stones are not alone,
Each is with the other.
Though you might be worn,
Through your testing His grace is shown.

Each stone has its place
In His plan for fulfilling His grace.
Each stone finds its role
In paving the way of uniting the Souls.

Be not afraid in going from here
For His Presence remains very near,
Building each of us from season to season,
Placing each step of the stones through Faith and Reason.

The Walled Garden

The bells toll;
The vine grows.
The water flows
From the south wall
And sustains the soul.

The walls are thick,
Cold and defending,
The gray, rough bricks
Hide the walled world within
With grace n’er bending.

The saving waters are falling,
Soaking the parched ground
Where fruit-laden trees are found.
Off the thick walls the sound reverberates;
To the whole world the waters are calling.

From all the garden’s walls
Mighty vines hang from above.
No disease or pest can do any harm
To any of the vine’s branches at all.
They testify to the Creator’s love.

The bells ring out God’s glory,
Calling all back to the garden
To recall God’s n’er-ending love story.
Joyful is the bells' sound
As the ringing repeats again.

His love endures forever,
And great is His Name.
His love endures forever,
And we’ll n’er again be the same.

Standing Next to You

The cold is out this solemn night;
With each step, I feel its touch.
We move in the darkness,
Step by step, in bitter silence.

I feel the cold between us,
Distance brought by brutal reality,
One where touch is an impossibility
And everything isn’t as it once was.

I measure every step
And count every breath.
How many nights haven’t I slept?
How many times have I wept?

We take our place on the route
To mark with others the end of another’s life.
How so is life full of chance,
But still I don’t know why you’re in mine.

Standing next to you,
I wish you could be mine
And that I could be yours, too.
Then my heart would be fine.

I stand there next to you.
How do I still long for you!
There my heart remains, silent for you,
Glad to be just next to you.

The rifle volleys are fired,
And the bugle calls out mournfully.
We shuffle away that night quietly
With my heart so greatly moved.

How do I tell you
Of the love I feel for you,
Of the feeling that within me grew,
And rid myself of these bonds, too?

The cold still remains with me
Even after that fateful night.
My heart still yearns for you,
But I must defer my happiness for thine.

My wish to our Maker then is only this:
Take away my happiness if it means for her only bliss.

The Canticle

How do I describe this experience I have been thrust into?
How do I compare it to any other experience in which I have ever felt or borne in my experience?
How can I doubt the Lord any further?
How can I not love Him as I know now?

What grace has been given to me!
What love has indwelled in me!
What caress of the heart have I felt!

My heart has seen the Lord. It has walked in His presence, His True Presence in all His Glory. His hand has calmed my nervous heart. His mercy has washed over me with all compassion this world can provide. His Light has filled my heart. It has graced me with a brightness so blinding. It has filled me completely.

With all my heart shall I continue to praise you, O God, in the name of the Father and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

With all my heart shall I sing of the Lord. I will proclaim from the depths to the heights of every land. I will speak the Word of Truth to all the lands all the days of my life. Amen.

Look Above

Look above to the boundless skies.
O what beauty do I see!
The clouds roll forth
And assuage my soundless cries.

Her image covers me;
Her touch strengthens me.
How did I not see this,
This wondrous ignorant bliss?

Look to the skies above!
The clouds stream quicker and quicker.
I lay my head down
And take the beauty in.

What a beautiful day it is
To just lay down and look above
To the glorious blue skies
And reflect on the love within.

Bonfire of the Heart

The time draws near
To draw friends and strangers
Out of the darkness that lingers
And into the light that is here.

We are called to love
And not to give into present fears,
Opening our hearts and lending our ears
To the gifts given from above.

Add to these fires, every one of you,
The fears and doubts that you have,
And, in turn, Christ will make anew
Your heart with His rod and staff.

See before you the Bonfire of the Heart,
Christ's everlasting gift, His Sacrifice to you.
We are to share in His Sacrifice and take part,
Lifting up our struggles and making our lives new.

Rest in the Lord, all you troubled,
For the Bonfire still burns this day.
His Love and His Sacrifice are forever coupled,
And we are to take up our own cross and follow His Way.

Look upon the Bonfire and let your soul rest.
You are home in Christ and shall forever be blest.

Out of the Night

What love do I feel within me;
It’s the peace you bring, O Lord.
The tranquility is not my doing,
Rather the work of your calming hands.

What merciful ways in which you free
For which my heart must sing, O Lord.
The fortitude is quickly swelling,
Ascending like an eagle over troubled lands.

Your soothing presence before me
Covers me with a grace so stirring, O Lord.
It counteracts against the temptations growing,
Subduing the Foe with a might so grand.

The Foe is no match to thee;
You are mightier than any realm or king, O Lord.
I am thankful for your merciful giving
So that I might, with you, so firmly stand.

I am forever grateful for my now renewed sight
And for being brought out from that cold dark night.

Ice Lily

O lily of fairest colors resounding,
What joy have you brought me.
Your fragrance is so confounding
With the sadness you now bring me.

Your beauty caught my eyes then,
All those many days before.
Your complexity drew me in,
But your coldness has driven me away evermore.

Your blossom consists solely of ice;
Not even the warmth of the shining sun
Nor the softest touch of kindness will suffice
To warm your icy blossom’s coldness you’ve begun.

O fair ice lily, open once more your frozen heart
Or face a world, too, where coldness never parts.

Bookends

Page to page, the paper flies.
Past one story and another,
The pages are sent whistling into the wind.

The pages are dark with small words scrawled,
The ink of past memories now gone,
Their flourishes so small now windswept memories.

Once a tome of great importance,
This lone volume is stripped bare.
All but a few scant pages remain.

I try to catch the pages
As they scatter into the wind,
But they disappear from my sight.

The pages in my grasp are torn and tattered,
But alas they are the only ones that remain
For me to recall at a later day.

I do not mourn the loss of the other pages.
In time they will find joys with another.
I will rejoice instead in the memories still in hand.

What else are we to do when things are scattered to the winds
Than to take our book of memories and keep grasp of its bookends?

O Fair Woman of Heart's Desire

O Fair Woman of Heart’s Desire
You transfigure all of humanity.
You direct our minds to something higher,
And you do so with total serenity.

You accepted the burdensome task as a mere girl,
And gave of yourself to raise the Savior of the World.
What love do we wish to emulate
As you took in all things into your heart to contemplate.

Even when the skies went dark at the hour,
You were there when your Son’s blood was shed,
Opening your heart to love quietly in his stead
And through His Grace open our hearts like flowers.

Your complete submission to God’s will says it all,
So much so that even when made low you stand tall.

O Father Eterne

Since time eternal
Has your love been present.
From age to age,
Your love has been Heaven-sent.

Your love was there for Abraham
And for Isaac, Samuel, and David, too.
In the Great Flood your mercy was shown
As after forty days the sun broke through.

How merciful is your love, O Father Eterne!
For your compassion do so many still yearn.
It continues to be shown each and every day
Through Your Son who has shown us the Way.

O God so merciful, be with us this very day
As we turn to You in a world that has turned away.

Winds of Change

The winds of change
Are quickly moving.
Their drastic nature
Keeps on disproving.

What are these winds so strongly blowing?
Are they coming or are they going?
What are these winds so heavily imbuing?
Are they lulling are or are they growing?

So feisty are these blustery winds
That all one can do is make amends.
Going to and fro, all that can be done
Is hang on for dear life before all is gone.

These winds of change are nothing to fear...
They’re simply new beginnings for which we should cheer.

The Painter

A man stands at the foot of a cliff,
Alone at the abyss’s edge.
His easel rests beside his tread,
And through its delicate colors, shows his gift.

The painter looks down at his paint
And the many works of his past.
He remembers each with private joy so vast,
But their colors have faded, now to ones so faint.

The painter uncovers one deep below,
And within him a warmth so full grows.
The painting was of a woman from long ago
Who captured the man’s heart but filled it with woe.

His eyes filled with tears,
For he still loves her after all these years,
But Fate had struck Her path,
One of change filled with endless wrath.

You see, he had painted this picture
Not to impress the Other,
But to keep her memory alive further,
Leaving him, in times like these, much richer.

He had painted this picture for her,
All that time ago,
To share with her his love for her
No matter where she goes.

But she never saw the gift
For what it truly was
And left with him the gift,
With its colors now faded without love’s cause.

His love is insatiable to fill;
Its power to control him beyond his will.
Without that requisite return touch,
This painting with its faded colors is a mere crutch.

The painter’s heart sinks lowly;
His creative will is gone.
What he painted was love alone,
But that love left him cold and unsightly.

His eyes look to the horizon,
Focused on the radiant rays of the sun.
Tears fall down from his face,
For he now knows his place.

For a painter to believe in himself,
He must first believe in his own works.
The worst is not the critic who rejects his work
But the one who walks away without a word.

The painter looks to the heavens,
Wondering what now to do.
His heart is ready for a new lesson,
But his heart is now silent like his canvas, too.

He puts down his worn brush
And turns away from the cliff.
His heart gives up on his dreams so lush,
And instead tells him to stop asking, “What if?”

Without a reason to paint or to implore,
The painter has no further reason to paint once more.

My Friend

My dear friend, how do I see you?
When we first met,
Such a memory was set,
But now my heart is so blue.

Night after night my warped affection
Became as clear as day
As I saw you in such a colored way,
My heart blind to reality’s complexion.

Without a doubt, I know my feelings are right,
But I cannot help but remember you are not mine.
My heart aches so, with your words so kind,
But life isn’t so kind to keep you in this light.

My emotions have tossed and turned
As a boat on the seas rocks to and fro
In a storm where the strong gales do blow.
Nothing has changed since in my heart so spurned.

I do not blame you, my friend,
For not knowing these words composed
Because I have kept it in,
Not telling a single soul.

It’s not that I want your love;
I’m quite far beyond that.
I know your heart is with another, so wrapped.
What I desire is your understanding of my pain.

I have done this before,
Wrapping my heart in attraction so impossible
That I thought burying it could be possible,
But stronger have the fires of my desires thus roared.

I don’t want to hurt what you have.
I’ve prayed for the both of you,
In good times and in bad,
But my heart needs freedom from you.

I do care for you deeply.
I’ve prayed for your relationships,
But I also wished for something else secretly
And now wish those words didn’t come off my lips.

I have prayed over this,
With my heart unsure of its wish.
It isn’t me to be acting so,
But through this all my heart has been made low.

My friend, all I ask of you is this:
Don’t break my heart when I finally tell you
Of the impossibilities I have so wished,
For all I wanted to say was "I love you."

The Bridge

Dark clouds brood ominously overhead,
Their menacing presence awakens me to the danger ahead.
Raindrops fall at a driving pace,
Saturating the river bank without relief.

I look to the hilltops on either side;
Huge channels of water close in on me.
Their currents are strong and paths wide.
Fear of the surrounding deluge consumes me completely.

Quietly my mind begins to race:
How did I fall from His state of Grace?
What did I do to come to this selfishness?
Surely there is light to counteract against this darkness.

Before me is a narrow bridge spanning the swollen river.
Its wooden planks look oh so rickety;
Its lattice railings are overrun with water running mightily,
But the bridge throughout this onslaught does not waver.

My mind tells me this is a bridge
That I cannot and should not try to cross.
My heart calls to me as I approach the water’s edge,
Telling me this is a bridge I must cross or all would be lost.

I tell myself that I’ve fallen before,
And surely this time, too,
I will fall once more
Into the deadly river below—a tomb.

My heart cannot deny that I could fall again,
But I cannot within myself grow
Without first rising and trying again,
Thus my pride would then be made low.

So I set my right foot on the first plank,
Starting my journey over the troubled river below.
Then, in the distance, I saw a wall of water begin to grow;
I began to waver in my faith as my heart quickly sank.

Fear overcame me again
As the wave came crashing in.
I gripped the railings with all my might
As the water rushed over me, taking from me my sight.

I started to quickly choke
As my lungs took in more water with each breath,
And my soul cried out for mercy if any was left.
With my spirit beside itself, its will broke.

Throughout the surge my hands stayed gripped
With my arms outstretched in gut-wrenching pain.
As the waters overcame me, I felt the sharp pain
Of two of the railings’ nails as through my hands they ripped.

Even through this anguish so great,
I did not release my tortured hands,
For my faith refused to abate.
I released control of my will into His Hands.

The waters began to subside,
And once I breathed my next breath
I let out a mighty cry.
It was not of anguish, sadness or pain.

It was a cry of joy in the Lord,
For I had finally crossed the Bridge,
And I had done so with the Lord,
Trusting in Him through His Passion and His Pain.

For if we are to live in Him,
We must die in Him,
And if we are to come to Glory,
We must rise in His glory.

He is there at all our bridges over troubled water,
And with Faith in Him we surely will never falter.

Paradise Lost: The Virginia Tech Tragedy

Paradise Lost

A cold wind blasts through the windows;
The glass scatters in the wind.
The wind howls ever more;
Quicker and quicker does it roar.

Dark clouds descend down;
The Ivory Tower is enveloped in darkness.
Blood flows in the streets;
Sanctity and trust are breached.

The tempest winds blow;
The sadness of lost comes.
The blood of innocents still runs,
Killed one by one, row by row.

What terror have we seen;
What of their fateful screams?
Why did this have to happen,
This terror, travesty, and sin?

We have seen this before,
And we shall see it again.
We’ve been betrayed by a kiss,
Just like the One, much greater than this.

Why has our generation
Become this abomination?
How can we allow
Our sanctuaries to be desecrated so?

Have we no compassion?
Have we no love?
Is there any forgiveness?
Is there any love?

Yes, there is love,
Love comparing to no other.
We must look to Him, no matter the cost,
We, now the remaining, of this Paradise Lost.

In memoriam: Virginia Tech Mass Shooting Tragedy: Monday, April 16, 2007

Silver Taps

The quiet cadence of steps
Ebbs and flows into consciousness
Like waves on a distant shore
Or drops of rain on drought-stricken land.

Slowly the white-clad troupe
Makes their steady entrance
As the soft march calls
Rise to the heavens as an offering of fraternal love.

The Plaza is dark this solemn night
With only the moon to give the mourners light.
The sky seems to mark the occasion,
Blotting out all the stars of night from sight.

The moon takes on the resemblance of a host,
Its milky white orb risen up
Over the masses assembled below
With a sanctifying silver glow.

The Volunteers stand at attention,
Their hearts racing with anticipation,
Awaiting the swift salute order
Of their ready and focused commander.

The order is given to ready,
And quickly the guns are aimed.
In succession the rifles are fired steadily,
Honoring the fallen Aggies all the same.

The bugle calls its Silver Taps,
Once to the north,
Once to the south,
Once to the west...

But never is the bugle’s call
Sounded to the east
Since the sun shall never rise for them in the least
Nor their smiling faces be seen here at this place.

In the distance visitors are welcomed
By maroon block letters on a water tower
That reads "Welcome to Aggieland."
What love do the Aggies have for one another:

We say hello to the stranger
Even in the darkest of times
And, even better, say goodbye
When that stranger formerly is missing from our midst.

This is the true meaning of Aggieland, my friend,
Where the Spirit is alive, even to the very end.

Rose Ever Blooming

Rose Ever Blooming

O beautiful rose ever blooming,
Like God’s love, all consuming.
Is not your stem so firm in standing?
Or your petals so vibrant with color?

Amid the springtime sun,
You radiate beauty forward.
You stand there unassuming,
But with grace you are soothing.

The grace comes not from you
But the luminous sun of day.
Dependent on the rays so true,
Your blossoms burst open as they may.

So symbolic of love is your quiet beauty;
Those deep colors of red do so enthrall me.

Selflessness

I look at her joy overflowing,
And with unassuming love I look on smiling.
From a distance I gaze on,
The selfish desires to pursue her now gone.

I still find her so compelling,
Her smile so enthralling,
Her personality so free and telling,
And her carefree heart so selflessly giving.

So I am torn:
What I am I to do with a heart so worn?
Should I cast away the friendship of before,
Or should I be a better friend even more?

What is better:
To hide oneself from another
Or to face the issue even further?

Love is to be made selfless.
Love is to be given without reserve.
Love is to go beyond current hindrances
And find the other in need.

My Cup Overflows

The sweet taste of relief flows into my mouth.
It quenches the thirst of all my doubt.
What overpowering joy this victory is,
A mighty one over strife and all amiss!

“Joyful! Joyful!” Is the strain,
Which casts away all past pains.
No more worries shall overcome me,
And the opportunities ahead are as vast as the sea.

All that I worked for I can now see:
Through all the muck and all the trouble
The Lord has made it mere rubble.
What glorious works are these!

My cup overflows with sweet blessings,
And I shall praise the Lord, never ceasing!