***Windblade's Favorite Religious Poems - Part I***

Discussion in 'Spirituality/Worship' started by hangininthere, Dec 28, 2006.

  1. hangininthere

    hangininthere Well-Known Member

    Here are a bunch of Windblade's favorite poems I looked up on-line for her and 'copy and pasted' (in 2006)!

    Everyone join in and post more poems you like!

    And we can discuss or make comments on the poems as we go!

    There are three Windblade poetry threads.




    LOVE (III)
    by George Herbert

    Love bade me welcome, yet my soul drew back,
    Guilty of dust and sin.
    But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack
    From my first entrance in,
    Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
    If I lack'd anything.

    "A guest," I answer'd, "worthy to be here";
    Love said, "You shall be he."
    "I, the unkind, the ungrateful? ah my dear,
    I cannot look on thee."
    Love took my hand and smiling did reply,
    "Who made the eyes but I?"

    "Truth, Lord, but I have marr'd them; let my shame
    Go where it doth deserve."
    "And know you not," says Love, "who bore the blame?"
    "My dear, then I will serve."
    "You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat."
    So I did sit and eat.





    The Avowal
    - By Denise Levertov


    As swimmers dare
    to lie face to the sky
    and water bears them,
    as hawks rest upon air
    and air sustains them,
    so would I learn to attain
    freefall, and float
    into Creator Spirit’s deep embrace,
    knowing no effort earns
    that all-surrounding grace.



    windblade

    comment 05/08/06 07:31 PM

    The "Love III" poem I have read so many times in my life.

    I have the same response - unconditional welcome. No matter how worthless or guilty I feel. 'Love' is stronger, and gathering me in. Insisting on it. This is such a comforting poem for me!

    The hymn 'Just as I am' I learned from my grandmother who I was very close to. So it has tender memories for me.





    Prayer (1)
    - By George Herbert


    Prayer the Church's banquet, Angels' age,
    God's breath in man returning to his birth,
    The soul in paraphrase, heart in pilgrimage,
    The Christian plummet sounding heav'n and earth;
    Engine against th'Almighty, sinners' tower,
    Reversed thunder, Christ-side-piercing spear,
    The six-days world-transposing in an hour,
    A kind of tune, which all things hear and fear;
    Softness, and peace, and joy, and love, and bliss,
    Exalted Manna, gladness of the best,
    Heaven in ordinary, man well dressed,
    The milky way, the bird of Paradise,
    Church-bells beyond the stars heard, the soul's blood,
    The land of spices; something understood.



    Pottersclay

    God are you there? 05/08/06 07:53 PM

    GOD ARE YOU THERE?
    ~by Helen Steiner Rice

    God are you there?
    I'm way down here? You're way up THERE!
    Are you sure You can hear my faint, faltering prayer?
    For I'm so unsure of just how to pray.
    To tell You the truth, God, I don't know what to say...

    I just know I am lonely and vaguely disturbed,
    Bewildered and restless, confused and perturbed...
    And they tell me that prayer helps to quiet the mind
    And to unburden the heart for in stillness we find
    A newborn assurance that SOMEONE DOES CARE
    And SOMEONE DOES ANSWER each small sincere prayer!

    ~ Helen Steiner Rice



    windblade

    Potter'sclay 05/08/06 08:01 PM

    So glad you brought a poem that I'm sure so many can relate to!



    windblade

    A thought... 05/08/06 08:08 PM

    On the 'Avowal' by Levertov. Just that I want to, and long to attain that trust that will let me truly rest in God's embrace. I can do it for short times, so maybe that's practice, like a baby-bird taking short trips from it's nest.

    Sorry I'm talking so much here. Poetry gets me really excited, and is so satisfying for me.

    EVERYBODY, are we going too fast here? Bringing too many poems at once?

    Love, Judy



    Pottersclay

    LET NOT YOUR HEART BE TROUBLED 05/08/06 08:15 PM

    LET NOT YOUR HEART BE TROUBLED
    ~Helen Steiner Rice

    Whenever I am troubled and lost in deep despair'
    I bundle all my troubles up and go to God in prayer.
    I tell Him I am hearsick and lost and lonely too,
    That my mind is deeply burdened and I don't know what to do.

    But I know He stilled the tempest and calmed the angry sea
    And I humbly ask if in His love he'll do the same for me.
    And then I just keep QUIET and think only thoughts of PEACE
    And if I abide in STILLNESS, my "restless murmurings" cease.





    The Five Affliction Poems
    - By George Herbert

    From The Temple (1633), by George Herbert:


    Affliction. (I)

    When first thou didst entice to thee my heart,
    I thought the service brave:
    So many joyes I writ down for my part,
    Besides what I might have
    Out of my stock of naturall delights,
    Augmented with thy gracious benefits.

    I looked on thy furniture so fine,
    And made it fine to me:
    Thy glorious houshold-stuffe did me entwine,
    And ‘tice me unto thee.
    Such starres I counted mine: both heav’n and earth
    Payd me my wages in a world of mirth.

    What pleasures could I want, whose King I served,
    Where joyes my fellows were?
    Thus argu’d into hopes, my thoughts reserved
    No place for grief or fear.
    Therefore my sudden soul caught at the place,
    And made her youth and fiercenesse seek thy face.

    At first thou gav’st me milk and sweetnesses;
    I had my wish and way:
    My dayes were straw’d with flow’rs and happinesse;
    There was no moneth but May.
    But with my yeares sorrow did twist and grow,
    And made a partie unawares of wo.

    My flesh began unto my soul in pain,
    Sicknesses cleave my bones;
    Consuming agues dwell in ev’ry vein,
    And tune my breath to grones.
    Sorrow was all my soul; I scarce beleeved,
    Till grief did tell me roundly, that I lived.

    When I got health, thou took’st away my life,
    And more; for my friends die:
    My mirth and edge was lost; a blunted knife
    Was of more use then I.
    Thus thinne and lean without a fence or friend,
    I was blown through with ev’ry storm and winde.

    Whereas my birth and spirit rather took
    The way that takes the town;
    Thou didst betray me to a lingring book,
    And wrap me in a gown.
    I was entangled in the world of strife,
    Before I had the power to change my life.

    Yet, for I threatned oft the siege to raise,
    Not simpring all mine age,
    Thou often didst with Academick praise
    Melt and dissolve my rage.
    I took thy sweetned pill, till I came where
    I could not go away, nor persevere.

    Yet lest perchance I should too happie be
    In my unhappinesse,
    Turning my purge to food, thou throwest me
    Into more sicknesses.
    Thus doth my power crosse-bias me, not making
    Thine own gift good, yet me from my wayes taking.

    Now I am here, what thou wilt do with me
    None of my books will show:
    I reade, and sigh, and wish I were a tree;
    For sure then I should grow
    To fruit or shade: at least some bird would trust
    Her houshold to me, and I should be just.

    Yet, though thou troublest me, I must be meek;
    In weaknesse must be stout.
    Well, I will change the service, and go seek
    Some other master out.
    Ah my deare God! though I am clean forgot,
    Let me not love thee, if I love thee not.


    Affliction. (II)

    Kill me not ev’ry day,
    Thou Lord of life; since thy one death for me
    Is more then all my deaths can be,
    Though I in broken pay
    Die over each hour of Methusalems stay.

    If all mens tears were let
    Into one common sewer, sea, and brine;
    What were they all, compar’d to thine?
    Wherein if they were set,
    They would discolour thy most bloudy sweat.

    Thou art my grief alone,
    Thou Lord conceal it not: and as thou art
    All my delight, so all my smart;
    Thy cross took up in one,
    By way of imprest, all my future mone.


    Affliction. (III)

    My heart did heave, and there came forth, O God!
    By that I knew that thou wast in the grief,
    To guide and govern it to my relief,
    Making a scepter of the rod:
    Hadst thou not had thy part,
    Sure the unruly sigh had broke my heart.

    But since thy breath gave me both life and shape,
    Thou knowst my tallies; and when there’s assign’d
    So much breath to a sigh, what’s then behinde?
    Or if some yeares with it escape,
    The sigh then onely is
    A gale to bring me sooner to my blisse.

    Thy life on earth was grief, and thou art still
    Constant unto it, making it to be
    A point of honour, now to grieve in me,
    And in thy members suffer ill.
    They who lament one crosse,
    Thou dying dayly, praise thee to thy losse.


    Affliction. (IV)

    Broken in pieces all asunder,
    Lord, hunt me not,
    A thing forgot,
    Once a poore creature, now a wonder,
    A wonder tortur’d in the space
    Betwixt this world and that of grace.

    My thoughts are all a case of knives,
    Wounding my heart
    With scatter’d smart,
    As watring pots give flowers their lives.
    Nothing their furie can controll,
    While they do wound and prick my soul.

    All my attendants are at strife,
    Quitting their place
    Unto my face:
    Nothing performs the task of life:
    The elements are let loose to fight,
    And while I live, trie out their right.

    Oh help, my God! let not their plot
    Kill them and me,
    And also thee,
    Who art my life: dissolve the knot,
    As the sunne scatters by his light
    All the rebellions of the night.

    Then shall those powers, which work for grief,
    Enter thy pay,
    And day by day
    Labour thy praise, and my relief;
    With care and courage building me,
    Till I reach heav’n, and much more, thee.


    Affliction. (V)

    My God, I read this day,
    That planted Paradise was not so firm,
    As was and is thy floting Ark; whose stay
    And anchor thou art onely, to confirm
    And strengthen it in ev’ry age,
    When waves do rise, and tempests rage.

    At first we liv’d in pleasure;
    Thine own delights thou didst to us impart;
    When we grew wanton, thou didst use displeasure
    To make us thine: yet that we might not part,
    As we at first did board with thee,
    Now thou wouldst taste our miserie.

    There is but joy and grief;
    If either will convert us, we are thine:
    Some Angels us’d the first; if our relief
    Take up the second, then thy double line
    And sev’rall baits in either kinde
    Furnish thy table to thy minde.

    Affliction then is ours;
    We are the trees, whom shaking fastens more,
    While blustring winds destroy the wanton bowres,
    And ruffle all their curious knots and store.
    My God, so temper joy and wo,
    That thy bright beams may tame thy bow.







    Without Ceremony
    - Vassar Miller

    Except ourselves, we have no other prayer;
    Our needs are sores upon our nakedness.
    We do not have to name them; we are here.
    And You who can make eyes can see no less.
    We fall, not on our knees, but on our hearts,
    A posture humbler far and more downcast;
    While Father Pain instructs us in the arts
    Of praying, hunger is the worthiest fast.
    We find ourselves where tongues cannot wage war
    On silence (farther, mystics never flew)
    But on the common wings of what we are,
    Borne on the wings of what we bear, toward You,
    Oh Word, in whom our wordiness dissolves,
    When we have not a prayer except ourselves.







    A Hymne to God the Father
    - John Donne

    I

    Wilt thou forgive that sinne where I begunne,
    Which was my sin, though it were done before?
    Wilt thou forgive that sinne; through which I runne,
    And do run still: though still I do deplore?
    When thou hast done, thou hast not done,
    For I have more.


    II

    Wilt thou forgive that sinne which I have wonne
    Others to sinne? and, made my sinne their doore?
    Wilt thou forgive that sinne which I did shunne
    A yeare, or two: but wallowed in, a score?
    When thou hast done, thou hast not done,
    For I have more.


    III

    I have a sinne of feare, that when I have spunne
    My last thred, I shall perish on the shore;
    But sweare by thy selfe, that at my death thy sonne
    Shall shine as he shines now, and heretofore;
    And, having done that, Thou hast done,
    I feare no more.







    Notes from the Other Side
    - Jane Kenyon

    I divested myself of despair
    and fear when I came here.

    Now there is no more catching
    one's own eye in the mirror,

    there are no bad books, no plastic,
    no insurance premiums, and of course

    no illness. Contrition
    does not exist, nor gnashing

    of teeth. No one howls as the first
    clod of earth hits the casket.

    The poor we no longer have with us.
    Our calm hearts strike only the hour,

    and God, as promised, proves
    to be mercy clothed in light.







    'Time And Eternity' Part Four
    - Emily Dickinson

    Part Four: Time and Eternity

    DEATH is a dialogue between
    The spirit and the dust.
    “Dissolve,” says Death. The Spirit, “Sir,
    I have another trust.”

    Death doubts it, argues from the ground.
    The Spirit turns away,
    Just laying off, for evidence,
    An overcoat of clay.






    The Flower
    - George Herbert


    HOW fresh, O Lord, how sweet and clean
    Are thy returns! Ev’n as the flowers in Spring,
    To which, besides their own demean,
    The late-past frosts tributes of pleasure bring;
    Grief melts away
    Like snow in May,
    As if there were no such cold thing.

    Who would have thought my shrivell’d heart
    Could have recover’d greenness? It was gone
    Quite under ground; as flowers depart
    To see their mother-root, when they have blown,
    Where they together
    All the hard weather,
    Dead to the world, keep house unknown.

    These are Thy wonders, Lord of power,
    Killing and quick’ning, bringing down to Hell
    And up to Heaven in an hour;
    Making a chiming of a passing bell.
    We say amiss
    This or that is;
    Thy word is all, if we could spell.

    O that I once past changing were,
    Fast in thy Paradise where no flower can wither!
    Many a Spring I shoot up fair,
    Off’ring at Heaven, growing and groaning thither;

    Nor doth my flower
    Want a Spring shower,
    My sins and I joining together.








    The Hound of Heaven
    - Francis Thompson

    I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;
    I fled Him, down the arches of the years;
    I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways
    Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears
    I hid from Him, and under running laughter.
    Up vistaed hopes I sped;
    And shot, precipitated,
    Adown Titanic glooms of chasmed fears,
    From those strong Feet that followed, followed after.
    But with unhurrying chase,
    And unperturbèd pace,
    Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
    They beat - and a Voice beat
    More instant than the Feet -
    "All things betray thee, who betrayest Me."

    I pleaded, outlaw-wise,
    By many a hearted casement, curtained red,
    Trellised with intertwining charities;
    (For, though I knew His love Who followèd,
    Yet I was sore adread
    Lest, having Him, I must have naught beside.)
    But, if one little casement parted wide,
    The gust of His approach would clash it to.
    Fear wist not to evade as Love wist to pursue.
    Across the margent of the world I fled,
    And troubled the gold gateways of the stars,
    Smiting for shelter on their clangèd bars;
    Fretted to dulcet jars
    And silvern chatter the pale ports o' the moon.
    I said to Dawn: Be sudden - to Eve: Be soon;
    With thy young skiey blossoms heap me over
    From this tremendous Lover -
    Float thy vague veil about me, lest He see!
    I tempted all His servitors, but to find
    My own betrayal in their constancy,
    In faith to Him their fickleness to me,
    Their traitorous trueness, and their loyal deceit.
    To all swift things for swiftness did I sue;
    Clung to the whistling mane of every wind.
    But whether they swept, smoothly fleet,
    The long savannahs of the blue;
    Or whether, Thunder-driven,
    They clanged His chariot 'thwart a heaven,
    Plashy with flying lightnings round the spurn o' their feet: -
    Fear wist not to evade as Love wist to pursue.
    Still with unhurrying chase,
    And unperturbèd pace,
    Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
    Came on the following Feet,
    And a Voice above their beat -
    "Naught shelters thee, who wilt not shelter Me."

    Now of that long pursuit
    Comes on at had the bruit;
    That Voice is round me like a bursting sea:
    "And is thy earth so marred,
    Shattered in shard on shard?
    Lo, all things fly thee, for thou fliest Me!
    Strange, piteous, futile thing!
    Wherefore should any set thee love apart?
    Seeing none but I make much of naught" (He said),
    "And human love needs human meriting:
    How hast thou merited -
    Of all man's clotted clay, the dingiest clot?
    Alack, thou knowest not
    How little worthy of any love thou art!
    Whom wilt thou find to love ignoble thee,
    Save Me, save only Me?
    All which I took from thee I did but take,
    Not for thy harms,
    But just that thou might'st seek it in My arms.
    All which thy child's mistake
    Fancies as lost, I have stored for thee at home:
    Rise, clasp My hand, and come."

    Halts by me that footfall:
    Is my gloom, after all,
    Shade of His hand, outstretched caressingly?
    "Ah, fondest, blindest, weakest,
    I am He Whom thou seekest!
    Thou dravest love from thee, who dravest Me."






    HOLY SONNETS
    - John Donne

    XIV.

    Batter my heart, three-person'd God ; for you
    As yet but knock; breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
    That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
    Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
    I, like an usurp'd town, to another due,
    Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.
    Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
    But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
    Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
    But am betroth'd unto your enemy;
    Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
    Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
    Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
    Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.





    LittleBluestem

    Christain Song and Hymn Website 05/15/06 11:53 PM

    I see I didn’t give enough of that web address. It should be: community.gospelcom.net/Brix?pageID=8402#

    They are all great hymns, but some of my favorites there are:
    A Mighty Fortress Is Our God
    And Can It Be
    Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing
    I Sing the Might Power of God
    Immortal, Invisible, God Only Wise
    It Is Well with My Soul
    Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence
    Like a River Glorious
    O the Deep, Deep Love of Jesus
    When I Survey the Wondrous Cross

    The people who do the website also broadcast a Radio Hymn of the Week which then gets added to the website, so the list of hymns continues to grow.



    LittleBluestem

    A Mighty Fortress Is Our God 05/16/06 12:00 AM

    Martin Luther's hymn "A Mighty Fortress Is Our God" is probably one of the most well-known, but I thought I would post it anyway, just in case anyone has missed it.

    A mighty fortress is our God, a bulwark never failing;
    Our helper He, amid the flood of mortal ills prevailing:
    For still our ancient foe doth seek to work us woe;
    His craft and power are great, and, armed with cruel hate,
    On earth is not his equal.

    Did we in our own strength confide, our striving would be losing;
    Were not the right Man on our side, the Man of God’s own choosing:
    Dost ask who that may be? Christ Jesus, it is He;
    Lord Sabaoth, His Name, from age to age the same,
    And He must win the battle.

    And though this world, with devils filled, should threaten to undo us,
    We will not fear, for God hath willed His truth to triumph through us:
    The Prince of Darkness grim, we tremble not for him;
    His rage we can endure, for lo, his doom is sure,
    One little word shall fell him.

    That Word above all earthly powers, no thanks to them, abideth;
    The Spirit and the gifts are ours through Him Who with us sideth:
    Let goods and kindred go, this mortal life also;
    The body they may kill: God’s truth abideth still,
    His kingdom is forever.



    windblade

    Georgia and Blue, 05/16/06 08:59 AM

    I grew up with Martin Luther hymns in the Lutheran church of course. They bring back good memories. Georgia - I'm so glad you brought yours here. I'll have to listen to them again online.

    Blue, YOUR SONG gave me a wonderful inspiration and closeness to the Lord! Thank you.

    About copyrights - I have 2 poems that were printed in magazines (not shown here yet); so I know they're safe. But the one I did print here I then remembered that it had been SHARED with people and passed around, but NOT published.

    I'm praying for the Holy Spirit to give me guidance on that poem. Could you pray with me about it? It's called 'In Desperation', but has great hope in it.

    Blue, I heard someone else say that if you wanted to prove copyright, write out your poem, then address it to yourself.
    DON'T open it, so it will have the date and proof that you wrote it.



    morningsonshine

    littlebluestem 05/16/06 09:54 AM

    I really liked your piece you wrote, it's good, one of those simple but meaningful pieces.
    The kind i like.

    I too have wondered about copywrite and protecting my stuff i write.
    I shared a poem awhile ago too, and was wondering if it could be stole? I did send it into a contest once but never heard anything back.

    That particular poem i've shared quite abit.

    But then i've never considered myself much of a poet, when i've read real authors stuff. But, it's still mine.

    Like the other little piece i wrote about Replys, I don't really consider that anything? But still wouldn't want someone to take it.

    I have short little things like littleblues, that could easily be part of a song. But i will probable never do anything more with.



    LittleBluestem

    Bach/Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee 05/16/06 11:13 PM

    I have moved around quite a bit. I have found that the churches of one denomination in two different cities can differ as much as churches of different denominations in the same city.

    When I go to a new town, I am willing to consider attending churches of several denominations. One of my criteria, when checking out churches, is whether they have "Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee", using the tune from J. S. Bach's "Ode to Joy", in the hymnal. I wouldn't want to belong to a church that did not sing "Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee"!



    windblade

    Hi 05/17/06 03:19 AM

    I also love Vivaldi - so JOYFUL!!!






    Back from the City
    - Jane Kenyon

    After three days and nights of rich food
    and late talk in overheated rooms,
    of walks between mounds of garbage
    and human forms bedded down for the night
    under rags, I come back to my dooryard,
    to my own wooden step.

    The last red leaves fall to the ground
    and frost has blackened the herbs and asters
    that grew beside the porch. The air
    is still and cool, and the withered grass
    lies flat in the field. A nuthatch spirals
    down the rough trunk of the tree.

    At the Cloisters I indulged in piety
    while gazing at a painted lindenwood Pieta-
    Mary holding her pierced and desiccated son
    across her knees; but when a man stepped close
    under the tasseled awning of the hotel,
    asking for "a quarter for someone
    down on his luck," I quickly turned my back.

    Now I hear tiny bits of bark and moss
    break off under the bird's beak and claw,
    and fall onto already-fallen leaves.
    "Do you love me?" said Christ to his disciple.
    "Lord, you know
    that I love you."
    "Then feed my sheep."



    windblade

    Dear Eliz, 05/17/06 12:41 PM

    Yes!!! I also love Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring.

    When our stereo broke down,and we switched to Cd's we lost all our listening to an enormous collection of classical music, Bach, Vivaldi, Mozart, Debussy, on and on.

    We can't get radio here - high mountains. But I will try Bach on the computer.

    What a rich heritage you have in germany!!!! Wow, to actually be in the church where Bach was, and Wittenburg.
    Powerful religious inheritance! I loved reading about that!

    And you played piano and organ, and Bach! SO intricate!
    One of my favorite authors whose mother was a pianist, Madeleine L'Engle always found order and pattern in her life when she played Bach.

    She wrote a novel, where the protaganist is a highly accomplished pianist, and Bach is woven throughout the book. It's called 'The Severed Wasp' and I know you would enjoy the music in it - but not sure of your literary tastes enough to recc. it.

    I had really severe tendonitus, and bursitis, for about a year. Taking SAM-e for 10 months, (Possible problem mixing with AD's) and ginger for inflamation healed that terrible pain. Maybe there are other things for tendonitus!!!!

    How wonderful if you coild play again.

    p.s. I miss Europe so much, and I haven't been there yet.







    LittleBluestem

    Lyric Websites 05/18/06 10:31 PM

    Here are some websites where you can find lyrics to Christain hymns and song. (None of them have "Father Almighty", however.)

    Methodist Hymn Site : www.hymnsite.com/
    All public domain.

    Hymnal.Net : www.hymnal.net/
    Notes which music is copyrighted and which is public domain.


    The Cyber Hymnal : www. cyberhymnal.org/
    Notes which music is copyrighted and which is public domain.

    Hymns & Spritual Songs : www.hymns.net/
    They seem to have everything listed as copyrighted, perhaps because they supply guitar chords.

    Wigtune Company : www.praisesong.net/
    No copyright info
    The hymn lyrics and stories are a little difficult to find : www.geocities.com/praisehymns/index.html

    The Bread Site : www.breadsite.org/
    No author or copyright info

    Christmas Carols : www.christmas-carols.net/
    No author or copyright info

    One site said that in the United States material from 1922 or before is usually in the public domain.





    windblade

    LittleBluestem, Hangin 05/21/06 12:22 PM

    Little blue - thanks for all the websites - and for the info. on copywrites. It's like a treasure chests of hymns.
    I like gospel too.

    Hangin, I have precious things written by my Grandmother. She had a hard life - extremely hard. When she was 90 - she told me that she always wanted me to remember that God had never let her down! I have that tucked away in my heart and mind.



    MamaR

    Friends...I need to share 05/23/06 10:10 AM

    I have this dear friend that goes to my church. He is like a son to me. He has battled so many things in his life.
    He went astray and was involved with drinking...etc. a few years back. He was stopped while driving and drinking and was facing jail. He was at work one night and was in the store freezer stocking... when he was talking to God. He was scared because he knew that he was going to jail for awhile.

    He said that he heard in his mind... so clearly the voice of God speaking to him. He said that it was so softly....I am already there! He said he was stunned... and he heard it once again. He said that while he was in jail he wrote this poem. I want to share it with you all.

    *********************************************************

    Already There

    I was praying to God one day
    Trying to find a way
    For an answer to the problems
    That were plaguing me.

    I questioned him why oh Lord
    Had these burdens come to afford
    Though I trusted in His name
    I felt so alone and ashamed.

    Many thoughts ran through my mind
    What is it oh Lord this time
    No solution could be found
    I felt desolate and let down.

    His presence was with me you see
    The witness being chills all over me.

    Like a thief in the night
    Not with power or might
    But the presence of God did abound
    I smiled because I knew
    My God had not let me down

    Many times we cannot believe
    That we shall soon receive
    The many blessings from Heaven
    With a bit of faith and leaven
    Thru the power of his name
    We shall no longer be ashamed

    I no longer am deceived with fear
    The road now looks straight and clear
    Confusion doubt and grief
    Has now been made into trust, confidence and belief
    That my God is fulfilling
    Those few short words he said to me.

    I am already there my son
    I have gone ahead to prepare a shelter for you
    Draw neigh unto me follow and believe
    I will answer your prayers my son
    Just ask and receive my will be done

    ********************************************************


    Love, Mari






    windblade

    Mari and Hanginin, 05/24/06 08:08 AM

    WOW!!! Mari, how utterly beautiful this young man's heart became after His extraordinary encounter with God. Thank you so much for sharing this story, and his poem!!! How precious. Makes me want to start singing 'Amazing Grace'!





    windblade

    Back again 05/24/06 08:26 AM

    Hangin, your story gave me the chills - of holiness!! How awesome and beautiful.

    I've never given up on praying for every member of my family, and I never will.






    MamaR

    Yes friends... 05/24/06 10:26 AM

    God is so very good and always there...EVEN when we don't feel Him.

    To all the wonderful ladies...beautiful...beautiful poems!

    Hangininthere,

    Your story was so familiar... chill bumps come up! Isn't it amazing how God keeps/kept us?

    God was so good to me...He made a way for me and led me to Him. It is a long story, but I met my husband in high school. I knew from the moment that I saw him that he was for me. He said that he felt the same. His family was Christians and that is how I found my peace.....eventually.

    Mari





    If Thou Could'st Empty All Thyself of Self
    - Sir Thomas Browne

    If thou could'st empty all thyself of self,
    Like to a shell dishabited,
    Then might He find thee on the ocean shelf,
    And say, 'This is not dead',
    And fill thee with Himself instead.

    But thou art all replete with very thou
    And hast such shrewd activity,
    That when He comes, He says, 'This is enow
    Unto itself - 'twere better let it be,
    It is so small and full, there is no room for me.'





    windblade

    This poem... 05/24/06 08:32 AM

    has meant so much to me over the years, teaching me of that emptying process that Jesus did before us. That this emptying is the only way to be able to receive God.

    We surely can't do this process on our own, but we can RESPOND to God's doing his work in us. That is our job, I believe.






    Peace
    - Henry Vaughan

    My soul, there is a country
    Far beyond the stars
    Where stands a winged sentry
    All skillful in the wars:
    There, above noise and danger,
    Sweet peace sits crowned with smiles,
    And One born in a manger
    Commands the beauteous files.
    He is thy gracious friend,
    And (O my soul, awake!)
    Did in pure love descend
    To die here for thy sake.
    If thou canst get but thither,
    There grows the flower of peace,
    The rose that cannot wither,
    Thy fortress, and thy ease.
    Leave then thy foolish ranges;
    For none can thee secure
    But One, who never changes,
    Thy God, thy life, thy cure.







    Let Evening Come
    - Jane Kenyon

    Let the light of late afternoon
    shine through chinks in the barn, moving
    up the bales as the sun moves down.

    Let the cricket take up chafing
    as a woman takes up her needles
    and her yarn. Let evening come.

    Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned
    in long grass. Let the stars appear
    and the moon disclose her silver horn.

    Let the fox go back to its sandy den.
    Let the wind die down. Let the shed
    go black inside. Let evening come.

    To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop
    in the oats, to air in the lung
    let evening come.

    Let it come, as it will, and don't
    be afraid. God does not leave us
    comfortless, so let evening come.







    Ikon: The Harrowing of Hell
    - Denise Levertov

    Down through the tomb's inward arch
    He has shouldered out into Limbo
    to gather them, dazed, from dreamless slumber:
    the merciful dead, the prophets,
    the innocents just His own age and those
    unnumbered others waiting here
    unaware, in an endless void He is ending
    now, stooping to tug at their hands,
    to pull them from their sarcophagi,
    dazzled, almost unwilling. Didmas,
    neighbor in death, Golgotha dust
    still streaked on the dried sweat of his body
    no one had washed and anointed, is here,
    for sequence is not known in Limbo;
    the promise, given from cross to cross
    at noon, arches beyond sunset and dawn.
    All these He will swiftly lead
    to the Paradise road: they are safe.
    That done, there must take place that struggle
    no human presumes to picture:
    living, dying, descending to rescue the just
    from shadow, were lesser travails
    than this: to break
    through earth and stone of the faithless world
    back to the cold sepulchre, tearstained
    stifling shroud; to break from them
    back into breath and heartbeat, and walk
    the world again, closed into days and weeks again,
    wounds of His anguish open, and Spirit
    streaming through every cell of flesh
    so that if mortal sight could bear
    to perceive it, it would be seen
    His mortal flesh was lit from within, now,
    and aching for home. He must return,
    first, in Divine patience, and know
    hunger again, and give
    to humble friends the joy
    of giving Him food--fish and a honeycomb.






    morningsonshine

    Best beloved 06/12/06 11:40 AM

    Walk Slowly

    If you go before me, dear, walk slowly
    Down the ways of death, well-worn and wide,
    For I would want to overtake you quickly
    And seek the journey's ending by you side.

    I would be so forlorn not to descry you
    Down some shining highroad when I came;
    Walk slowly, dear, and often look behind you
    And pause to hear if someone calls your name.

    by Adelaide Love






    Flickering Mind
    - Denise Levertov

    Lord, not you,
    it is I who am absent.
    At first
    belief was a joy I kept in secret,
    stealing alone
    into sacred places:
    a quick glance, and away–and back,
    circling.
    I have long since uttered your name
    but now
    I elude your presence.
    I stop
    to think about you, and my mind
    at once
    like a minnow darts away,
    darts
    into the shadows, into gleams that fret
    unceasing over
    the river's purling and passing.
    Not for one second
    will my self hold still, but wanders
    anywhere,
    everywhere it can turn. Not you,
    it is I am absent.
    You are the stream, the fish, the light,
    the pulsing shadow,
    you the unchanging presence, in whom all
    moves and changes.
    How can I focus my flickering, perceive
    at the fountain's heart
    the sapphire I know is there?






    windblade

    Oh, Misty... 06/12/06 11:54 AM

    This one has REALLY got me choked up! Wow - I'm going to have to copy and keep this one, "Best Beloved". Really powerful.







    On the Mystery of the Incarnation
    - Denise Levertov

    It's when we face for a moment
    the worst our kind can do, and shudder to know
    the taint in our own selves, that awe
    cracks the mind's shell and enters the heart:
    not to a flower, not to a dolphin,
    to no innocent form
    but to this creature vainly sure
    it and no other is god-like, God
    (out of compassion for our ugly
    failure to evolve) entrusts,
    as guest, as brother,
    the Word.






    Variation on a Theme by Rilke
    - Denise Levertov

    A certain day became a presence to me;
    there it was, confronting me--a sky, air, light:
    a being. And before it started to descend
    from the height of noon, it leaned over
    and struck my shoulder as if with
    the flat of a sword, granting me
    honor and a task. The day's blow
    rang out, metallic--or it was I, a bell awakened,
    and what I heard was my whole self
    saying and singing what it knew: I can.


    [This Message was Edited on 04/27/2010]
  2. morningsonshine

    morningsonshine New Member

    Great job, i always wondered what happened to this thread.

    It was a fun one
  3. Lms526

    Lms526 New Member

    Hey all,
    I think this post is a great idea. Anyway, here's a poem I wrote a while ago. I think it was sometime last year. I usually date when I wrote each of my poems, but this particular one I didn't for some reason. Anyway, I hope it is a blessing to all of you.

    A Real Life Fairy Tale

    Once upon a time
    not so long ago
    there lived a young girl
    innocent and carefree
    her heart and mind are full of
    hopes and dreams

    The little girl loves to play dress-up
    she loves to pretend
    that she is a princess
    full of beauty and grace

    The little girl waits anxiously
    anticipating the far off day
    when Prince Charming will come
    and take her far away to
    ride off into the sunset and live
    happily ever after.

    Time passes
    the little girl grows up
    feeling awkward and insecure
    the girl starts to feel more
    like the ugly duckling than a princess

    Her heart is scarred
    it has been broken and bruised
    time and time again
    she starts to believe
    many of the enemy's lies
    many of his fiery darts
    lodge deep in her tender heart

    In anger, she wipes away the tears
    she refuses to give them the satisfaction
    of seeing her cry
    she buries the pain deep inside
    she becomes an expert
    in denial and learns to hide
    both her heart and her true self

    The girl has kissed many frogs
    hoping to find her prince
    but he doesn't appear
    So the girl convinces herself
    it doesn't matter
    Who needs Prince Charming anway?

    I don't need a man
    I'm no damsel in distress
    I can make it on my own

    Cynacism fills her heart
    her dreams turn to dust
    and her hopes disappear
    she dismisses all thoughts and dreams
    of every finding true, unconditional love

    That's the stuff of fairy tales
    this is real life
    It's time to grow up
    and stop dreaming and wishing
    I don't have time for
    silly daydreams and
    girlhood wishes.
    Soon hope is all but gone

    The girl locks herself away
    in a high, sturdy tower
    She loves being alone
    hiding in the shadows
    on the outside looking in

    The one day
    when the girl is not expecting it
    her Prince appears
    He smiles and holds out
    His nail-scarred hand and whispers
    "Come away with Me, My Beloved"

    In shame and despair
    the girl turns away
    She can't bring herself
    to look Him in the eye

    He is patient
    and doesn't push her
    He treats her with
    compassion, gentleness and grace

    She takes a baby step towards Him
    He runs to her and embraces her
    He kisses her and tells her He loves her
    and calls her His princess.

    The girl doesn't know how to respond
    The Prince is unlike any other man
    she's ever known
    But she still isn't sure
    she can trust Him
    but she longs to give Him a chance

    The girl has made many mistakes
    committed many sins and made many bad decisions
    She knows the past can't be changed
    but dare she hope it can be erased?

    The prince continues to
    draw the girl
    He shows her His heart
    and treats her with dignity and respect
    He whispers secrets in her ear
    and shows her His love
    in Word and in deed.

    Soon, before she knows it,
    the girl has fallen
    completely, hopeless in love
    with her Prince.
    but she is still plagued by
    insecurity
    she knows her Prince deserves
    so much more.
    She knows she doesn't deserve His love
    She longs to please Him

    The prince always tells the girl
    the truth
    Even when it is not what
    she wants to hear.
    He sometimes rebukes her
    but He is never
    mean, angry, or cruel.
    He tells the girl He loves her
    every day
    He thinks the girl is beautiful.

    But the girl struggles to believe
    His words are true
    Even though the Prince
    has proven Himself trustworthy
    time and time again.

    With much fear and shame
    the girl begins to share
    her past, heart and life
    with her Prince.

    Healing begins
    but it's a long, slow process
    sometimes the girl wants to
    give up and quit.
    but she desperately wants to be free

    By now, the girl
    has laid aside her childish dreams
    of Prince Charming.
    She can't imagine being a wife
    but her Prince tells her
    this is part of His plan

    the girl is scared to death
    she's shaky and unsure
    Why should she get her hopes up
    only to be disappointed yet again
    The girl still struggles to trust
    the Prince
    and believe that He knows
    what is best.

    Then one day
    the girl sits
    crying in the corner
    withdrawn and scared
    The prince touches her on the shoulder
    "Would you like to dance?"

    The girl wipes away her tears
    and places her hand in His
    He lifts her to her feet
    She lets Him into the
    dark, hidden, corners of her heart
    where pain and disappointment live
    She gives Him her
    wounded heart, broken dreams, and tattered hopes

    She turns away and says
    She doesn't want to dance.
    Her Prince is dressed in the finest linens
    She, in filthy rags
    The girl turns away
    and hangs her head in shame

    The Prince wipes away her tears
    He tells her to close her eyes.
    When she opens them again,
    she can't believe her eyes.

    The girl is dressed in a gown
    of white satin
    around her shoulders is a
    beautiful blood-red shawl.
    On her feet, are silver slippers.

    Her hair is swept up and held in place
    by a sparkling tiara.
    Not made of cheap plastic,
    but the real thing.

    the Prince smiles with a bow
    and asks her to dance.

    The girl hesitates
    staring at her reflection
    She can't hold back a sigh.

    The girl looks at the Prince
    "Please don't ask me.
    I'm not really that good of a dancer"

    Then she removes the tiara and
    without a word, hands it to the Prince.
    She sees hurt and confusion in His eyes.

    The Prince is at her side
    "Is something wrong" Of course
    The Prince already knows
    all that is in the girl's
    heart and mind.

    "Look, this isn't me. My life
    is not a fairy tale. I am not a princess
    I will only ruin this beautiful dress."

    The Prince embraces her.

    "My darling, there is so much you don't understand.
    I am the Prince of Peace
    but I am also the King of Kings
    So you see, you are a princess
    You are a daughter of the King."

    "I don't deserve it." The girl protests

    "You're right. You don't. But it is
    My gift to you. All you need to do is accept it."

    The girl falls to her knees
    She sings His praises
    then she lays her crown
    at His feet.

    the Prince smiles and kisses
    her on the cheek
    then he places the crown
    back on her head.

    The girl knows only too well
    that there are very few
    Happily Ever Afters
    in a fallen world.

    but she also knows that one day
    her earthly story will
    come to an end.

    Then the girl will live forever
    in paradise with her Prince
    who loved her so much
    He died for her
    so she could spend eternity
    living Happily Ever After.

    LMS
  4. windblade

    windblade Active Member

    I enjoyed your fairy tale poem so much - it's my story too, and I can relate to all of it. Thank God we have that great hope. I'm going to read it again - thanks for sharing it.

    Love, Judy
    [This Message was Edited on 05/31/2009]
  5. kgangel

    kgangel New Member

    The following Poem is called Landscape. I like it so much I have it on my site. Hope you enjoy it

    Hugs

    Kgangel

    Landscape:


    Your life's like a landscape and God has the brush.
    The work is in progress, He's not in a rush.

    Each stroke has a purpose, nothing's by chance.
    To see all His wisdom takes more than a glance.

    Notice the sunbeams that shine on the dew --
    Even the clouds can't keep them from view.

    Look at the pathway that turns at the hill --
    Its course will reveal what's next in His will.

    The stream that's flowing with water so blue
    Is bringing down blessings meant just for you.

    The trees that are planted close to the stream
    Will bring forth more fruit than you've ever seen.

    The bird in the nest with mouth opened wide
    Is just a reminder that God will provide.

    Now look at the sheep in the meadow that's near
    And notice the Shepherd that keeps them from fear.

    He's brought them to pastures which give forth the best,
    That cool and refresh, and keep them in rest.

    The eagle above, that soars o'er the gale
    Is God's way of saying, "My strength will not fail."

    That part of the painting which now seems unclear
    Will take on new meaning with each passing year.

    So trust God to work in His own perfect way
    And rejoice in the beauty He's painting today.

    And I am sure that God, who began the good work within you, will continue His work until it is finally finished on that day when Christ Jesus comes back again. Philippians 1:6 NLT

    I hope you enjoyed this, I know I did

  6. Pottersclay

    Pottersclay New Member

    Thank you for putting all these poems in one thread. May they be an inspiration and uplifting in times when we are having a hard time "Hanging in there."

    God promises he will never leave or forsake us. trust in him today!
    Love,
    PC