Category: Other Poetry

Please touch us with Apostles’ hands;
In us Yourself release.
May where we stand be holy land,
With deep shalom of peace.

Our holy land is justice built     
With mercy as its rock;
Forgiveness takes away our guilt,
And our true selves unlocks.

Again, through us that river flows–
Baptism’s mighty pour;
Now virtues in us start to grow   
In river’s mighty roar–

Flows out through us to earth so parched,
To image too long dry;
Through us that serpent’s head is crushed
As Mary’s Son draws nigh.

That river’s source is stable poor
In one small baby boy,
But flowing out that stable door  
Is all of heaven’s joy.

Through water and Apostles’ touch
Those virtues’ joy now blooms;
Makes planet earth a heaven’s porch,
And drowns out hell’s dark doom.

With water and the Spirit raise
All us to heaven’s gate.
We step through gate to paradise
With Jesus, our soul-mate. 

Lord, may your grace prevent
My journey’s every step,
For it is my intent
That none of self be kept. 

May Holy Spirit dwell in me
From all my sin to set me free. 

Repenting of my sin
Convicting grace reveals;
May I be born again,
By Holy Spirit sealed.

May Holy Spirit dwell in me
From all my sin to set me free. 

Then on to glory take
My own enraptured soul;
And me for heaven make,
Again be fully whole.

May Holy Spirit dwell in me
From all my sin to set me free.   

Can song we sing in land so strange 
Be our Lord’s melody?  
A place were fame and fortune reign  
In land that thinks its free? 

Where freedom from God’s moral law    
Is only standard held,  
With nature red in tooth and claw 
Where human nature fell?

What is that melody so clear; 
O’er all the earth it wafts? 
It’s joy’s own song I yearn to hear 
Like children when they laugh. 

A heaven’s song is in earth’s air
Of our Messiah’s birth;
Eternal comes for human care,
And earth is filled with mirth.

An old, old story born again;
God enters human flesh.
It’s God’s true fairy tale for men 
As earth and heaven mesh.

Can song we sing be old made new
In land without the Tao?
Where people say most new is true,
Is all that matters now?

The One who walked that Garden cool  
Comes now as little child;
To make again the earth
His school, And burn the tares gone wild.

But from that burning there will rise 
A New Creation born;
No longer will our Rachel cry–
We rise on Easter morn. 

That song I hear is of death’s night
And Resurrection dawn–
An old, old song raised to new heights
By coming of God’s Son.

The closer heaven draws to earth
The more like home earth seems,
For earth inherits sacred worth
Reflecting heaven’s scenes.

That song we hear has changed this land,
And it is strange no more;
It’s now a place were we can stand
To step through heaven’s door.

Lord, up the road I see two gates, 
One narrow and one wide; 
And by each gate an angel waits
For me to choose his side. 

As I approach, I understand 
That I must make a choice.
Each reaches out to me his hand; 
I hear each angel’s voice. 

The angel by that wide gate speaks,
“Choose him and I’ll be proud;”
With God I can play hide-and-seek,
Hide from Him in a shroud. 

Then on my own I’ll never need
A guide along the way, 
With only my desires to heed
While feelings in me play. 

“Come on,” He says, “yourself become, 
Fulfill your human wants;  
Your conscience I will make so numb 
You’ll never be at fault. 

“Come, choose my road, in crowd stand out—
Be leader of the pack;
Your fame will make all others pout 
When they look at your back.”

About this time I looked anew  
At narrow, winding road; 
I saw it had an upward view, 
Too steep for heavy load. 

The angel there began to sing
Of people I’ll find there 
And of His Ruler, Christ the King,  
And beauty everywhere.

My heavy load His King will lift,
And His light yoke He’ll give;
That yoke a Cross, will vices sift,
As I with His King live.

Along the way I will be led
By Living Water pure
That’s mixed with wine and
Served with bread
For strength that will endure.

As pondered I which gate to take,
A voice inside of me
Told me of all that is at stake
In choices I now see.

The steps through that wide gate are smooth,
A gentle downward slope;
But something’s false there, not the truth,
Makes way there seem false hope.

I turn to narrow gate and see
A face there looking back;
It seems to be true human me,
No virtue do I lack.

Through narrow gate I step, then know
The glory that will be,
As Easter sunrise morning glow
Gives me humility.

Forget myself as on I go
With Church at Jesus side.
I never knew that love could so
In my new heart abide.

                                  

                                                                                  

When Noah’s new-built ark set sail,
There were two cats aboard;
Both Tom and Tomasina bailed,
Helped Noah through the flood.

Then mommy, daddy multiplied     
And all the earth they filled;
Those purring kittens sanctified
By flood’s baptismal spill.

With purring kittens everywhere,
It comes as no surprise
To see two at that manger there
Curled up at Jesus’ side.

Then later on in years of time
Another cat begat
A little kitten who could climb;
Her name was Tigger Cat.

Now Tigger loves a little girl  
Named Katherine (Katy) K;
Our Katherine keeps her in a swirl
When she comes out to play.

But Tigger loves her none-the-less,
For she loves all so well;
Yet she loves Rick and Jenny best,
Her purring well it tells. 

By Adam’s sin we’re Devil’s food;
He wants to suck us in.
The one way out is Jesus’ Rood:
The death of our own sin.

In us Two Adams are at war
In every human chest;
God’s image in us we have marred,
Since Eve chose not the best.

But by our choice we also fall
Each time we choose self-will
And fail on Jesus Christ to call—
We know He will us kill.

With fearful longing we see Tree
Where death and new life grow.
Why must we die to be sin-free?
That death will hurt us so.

Oh, help me, Lord, to make that choice;
Your nail-scarred hand I clutch;
That human scream is my own voice
As Cross does my heart touch.

But then a taste that’s bittersweet
Does touch my sin-parched tongue;
At last it’s Christ’s own joy I meet—
My sin on His Cross hung.

Now dead to sin, alive in Him:
New life in Holy Rood.
At last all free from sin I am– 
No longer Devil’s food.  

Our new-found magic weaves its spell:
It’s called technology–
Control our world and man as well
And then we will be free.

But can that cause us to be free
From virtue in our breast?
It’s God’s own claim we fail to see
Implanted in our chest.

Those virtues there mean we are men
With bellies, heads, and hearts;
Those hearts infected by our sin
Give in to belly’s part.

Our head thinks now it’s in control,
But Satan’s belly rules;
It’s wishful thinking makes us bold,
Ignoring virtue’s school.

But virtue’s school has no recess;
God’s law is always there
To help us straighten out our mess
And point us to God’s care.

Those virtues point to Father’s Son
Born in a cattle stall
And to His Mother, favored one,
To save us from sin’s fall.

God’s Spirit came to Lord’s handmaid
With pure heart in her breast
To save us all; through Mary made
His Son with sinless chest.

One man in whom is virtue pure
Resists the Devil’s wiles;
For God’s great strength was in Him sure–
Subdued our belly’s bile.

His virtues raised from sin’s dark grave,
He cleansed from sin our souls.
Now hearts and heads and bellies saved:
Our wounded selves made whole.

A fairy tale breaks Satan’s spell,
A fairy tale come true:
Christ saves us all from high-tech hell,
His virtues ever new.

Those stone-cold idols break our hearts:
Heartbreak by human hands.
We create gods to play our parts;
We think our work is grand.

We always lust for something new,
Disparaging the old;
Our handiwork we self imbue, 
And have our birthright sold.

We think new virtues can be born
Of idols we create,
But search for new-born is forlorn;
We can’t escape our fate.

For virtues are a part of souls,
Are common to us all,
But Fall has made those virtues cold–
Ignore their heated call.

But hearts of idols we here make
Are cold just like our own;
We turn from them with hearts that ache
For virtues in them sown.

Then from the corner of our eye
We see a thorn-crowned brow;
Our hearts are captured by His cry:
“Forgive them, Father, now!

“With Mary we fall on our knees,
Prostrate at Jesus’ Cross,
For now on earth we heaven see;
Our hearts to Him are lost.

Those idols of our hands, they seem
Such little, petty things;
We wake from stone-cold idols dream,
Our hearts with Jesus sing.

His virtues in us all are formed,
Called forth by His so pure;
His glory broadcast all around–
Our stone-cold hearts are cured.

In all our sorrow, give God praise—
He, Jesus, from His grave has raised!
Came once in time for all our days
That all men may on Jesus gaze.

Through Jesus Father’s grace conveyed,
The price for all our sin He pays;
Dies on the Cross, in grave He lays;
We die with Him to live His way.

In Spirit, now to Jesus pray;
He’ll come to guide through this life’s maze,
With light from Heaven’s bright lamp rays,
As ever after Jesus stays.

Our sorrow turns to joy in praise;
With Jesus we are also raised,
And now we praise Him all our days.
On us we know He’ll always gaze. 

We hear, O Lord, your symphony 
Of charismatic gifts
Imparted in baptism, free,
Flows from that Rock God clefts.

That Rock is Christ from whom here flows
His water and His blood;
That bloody water strikes a blow
Where Devil’s house has stood.

Our Church’s house stands on Christ’s Rock;
It never will fall down.
Christ is the Key who will unlock
His house, His moat around.

It’s through His moat we all must swim;
He swims to carry us
Across to His own home with Him,
As on Him we all trust.

At Jesus’ feet we Mary meet
‘Neath Cross, His New Life Tree;
There, all our sisters, brothers greet–
His grace to all is free.

In His own home He all us feeds
Those five loaves and two fish;
It’s His blessed food, meets all our needs,
Thanksgiving’s holy dish.

His gift to us, Himself He gives
To serve in His true Church,
For in that Church He fully lives:
At last we end our search.