Glowing Crowns

sunlight on trees in fall



Gleaming the sunlight blazes,
golden gleaming.
Lights afire regal, precious stones,
the jewels ablazing,
That sit on monarchs' lofty heads,
with glory crowning.

Rubies, perdots, bright topaz,
in splendor sitting.
Crown the tall tree-heads
in sunlight glowing.
Majestic stand like kings and queens,
their kingdom ruling.

At last the weary monarchs,
crowns removing,
send gems dancing, twirling to the ground,
a carpet glowing.
To make way for new crowns, new jewels,
new life springing.

Hunger

written during a time I was fasting

Behold, the feasts of the world are spread out.
Feasts of power and wealth are prepared.
From the farthest corners of the world they come,
offering all sorts of worldly pleasure.

They offer the might of kings and princes,
they are prepared in their banquet halls.
The wealth of Solomon, of all the world is set upon the table,
riches and powers and pleasures of the world.

I see these feasts, oh God, and my heart is empty.
The hunger of my soul does not abate.
What can quench this unutterable longing?
What feast is there where my hunger shall be sated?

For the feasts of the world set before me do not sustain.
If I feast on them still I will hunger.
They have no power to fill me up,
they do not satisfy my longing for something more.

You alone, my God, can satisfy me!
I will find lasting nourishment only in your grace
Not like the fleeting satisfaction of worldly feasts is my God,
but his love will fully satiate me.

The feasts of the world give me nothing.
When I partake of them still I hunger.
God alone will satisfy my cravings.
His grace is filling as meat and wine, like good food.

My God, My God, how my soul longs for you!
How I hunger daily for your graces!
My spirit is consumed by need of you.
Without you I would surely perish.

Your words, my Lord, give me strength.
They comfort me like food does a starving man.
You sustain me with your essence, with your very being.
For you my soul is longing.

I am in great need of your Spirit, Oh God!
My soul longs to be full of your grace.
It is pining to be filled with you,
to slake it's thirst with your love.

When you fill me I am satisfied,
while without you I wander hungry and destitute.
Therefore I approach as a beggar,
I beg, my God, for the scraps of your love, your mercy.

But your generosity knows no bounds,
instead of scraps you have given me a feast!
My soul is overwhelmed by your open-handed goodness,
you give contentment to my soul!

Will You

another poem after time in prayer and Adoration

Will you hear the cries of the wounded around you?
Will you see their affliction, take pity?
Will you answer? Will you step forward?
Will you fight? Will you bleed? Will you bear the wounds?

Will you be content with weaknesses?
Will you bear suffering?
Will you be open to total sacrifice?

Will you bear ridicules?
Will you be insulted, slandered?
Will you be hated?
Will you die each day?

Will you open yourself to unknown joy?
Will you let yourself love as never before?

Will you cast yourself into the ocean and find firm ground?
Will you step into the darkness and thereby find light?
Will you bear the pain and thereby find joy?
Will you give your life away but to find it once again?

Common

at a time I was particularly fed up with idiocy and academia, which can often be one and the same.

Give me those who live and bleed and die.
Give me the man who weary in body seeks to live the good life.
Give me the woman full of hurt who still loves.
Those who wander on the streets and scratch out a living,
who harbor in their hearts hope for their children,
keeping nothing for themselves.

They have truly loved, truly felt, truly wept, truly lived.
They live unfettered by theories and academic babble,
spewed forth by apes who masquerade as men,
who proclaim man as high and excellent,
and in the next breath reduce him to an animal.

How much I would rather be ruled by those who see life clearly:
poor in learning,
but rich in life and common sense.

The Morning Shield

inspired by the sunrise I can see from my office.

The morning shield is rising,
on blue fields swiftly rising,
and the shadows now are flying,
as he casts his light abroad.
And his eyes are bright and blazing,
like white hot flames are blazing,
and he's clothed in armor dazzling,
flame robed and golden shod.

His battle horn is blowing,
the call to battle blowing,
and the notes are fiercely flowing,
o'er field and mountain tall.
In forests dark they're echoing,
in tangled forests echoing,
in canyons dim they're bellowing,
as they herald evening's fall.

The shadows he is piercing,
with sharpened spear is piercing.
No hidden place he's missing,
as he calls forth the day.
And Apollo's steeds he's driving,
and dark before him driving,
and the shadows now are dying,
as he drives the dark away.

The demons now are wailing,
the shades and shadows wailing,
for their power sure is failing
against this shield of might.
With bright steel he's destroying,
their deadly hold destroying,
and they, brightness abhorring,
flee from his blazing light.

New hope in hearts he's kindling,
new life he now is kindling,
and souls now joyfully singing,
from darkness lift their eyes.
They hearken to his calling,
come marshall to his calling,
for they see the shadows falling,
and the night before him flies.

The morning shield is rising,
like Son of Man is rising,
who death's dark grasp defying,
brought life and light anew.
As he rose in glory shining,
like sunlight brightly shining,
that brings hope with each new dawning,
and lights the morning dew.

The Dome and Spire

inspired by the view of DC from my office building and my thoughts on politics in general.

On wings of dawn the sun does rise, a golden spire,
and gleaming rays alight on dome and spire
that stand amidst the sound of cry and moan,
of those wandering the kingdom, lost alone.
The gluttonous for power and snake tongued liars,
sit their in vice and power on their thrones.

Forgotten now their noble call, the call to serve.
From new and deadly tasks they will not swerve.
Those who once they served now denied both life and breath,
They trample the oppressed to dust and death,
those whose backs with heavy loads do curve.

Bickering these power hungry jackals sit in golden halls
devouring defenseless lives with hungry maws.
Then turning round with serpent hearts and eyes,
feed the people's fears with evil lies.
As they cackling gather power neath their paws.

Where now are servants true, to do what must be done?
Who'll save their people dying like sinking sun.
Truly unless they come with speed and haste,
on deadly paths our kingdom has been placed,
to a place of hell and misery, never undone.

Prayer of an Afflicted One

Oh Lord how long will this sickness afflict me?
How long will this blight be upon my soul?
My spirit is sick within me.
For many nights I have wept in anguish,
yet my bitter tears give me no sustenance.

When, my God, will you come to my aid?
Will my plea be unheard by your ears?
Behold the jackals close in about me,
cackling madly at my distress,
jeering at my wounded soul.

Turn not your face from me, oh God!
You who created me, do not abandon me now!
Without your aid I shall perish.
As surely as a blind man would perish in the woods,
will I perish without the help of the Lord.

Why, oh Lord, am I forsaken?
Why am I forgotten like the dead?
No companion have I save my grief
and the evil one who afflicts me,
mocking me in my pain.

My Spirit is assaulted by grief and anguish.
my soul is burdened with bitter sorrows.
Like an army besieging a city
my foes have besieged my soul.
With evil hearts they seek my life.

In this dark and sorrowful time
I have but one hope: the Lord.
I cast myself on his love and protection.
Surely he will shelter me in his arms,
as a father shelters his child from the terrors of the night.

My last hope is in you, my Savior.
Your mercy is my only chance for life.
Bereft of all other hopes I cling to you.
Save me, oh Lord, in my anguish!
Oh God, save my soul!

Although I feel alone against my enemies,
the Lord is not far from me.
When my spirit wails in desolation
the Lord will answer.
He will hear the cry of my lips
and rush with great haste to protect me.

For the Lord is their for all his children
even when they perceive him not.
A loving God, he abandons not his creations.
He watches over them with love
and protects them from the evil one.

Therefore, though my soul is sick and alone, I trust.
I trust in the Lord who will never leave me.
Like a mountain of rock he is there,
though my soul and senses perceive him not.
He will shelter me in his love.