Poetry By Living Faith
Again Jesus spoke to them, saying,
�I am the light of the world.
Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness,
but will have the light of life.�
Color This Home, The Hue Of Mercy
Some may have great paying jobs, and drive new shiny cars,
others barely get by, and drive old piles of nuts and bolts.
One may live in a brand new house, have no desire for
pets, while the other lives in a run-down shack, with a
passion for animals.
One may eat steak and potatoes each night, while the
other prefers humble beans, and some may delve into
gossip, and relish in the turmoil it brings, while others
are quiet and reserved.
Another may like to go boating, hunt and fish, while the
other detests these things, and with each passing day one
may live happy and jolly, the other a bit forlorn'd.
One may seem to do all things just right, the other may
do all things wrong, yet none of us are perfect, we all
still stumble and fall.
And within this family of differences, we all still
seem to blend, because in a family of love, there is
nothing once can do, that the other cannot forgive.
And we shall dine simple without thought for the
table that others have set, a bowl full of understanding
and love and a great slice of gratitude will be our desert.
You were children, and I lost in the
cause to survive, a prisoner of time,
which now has miraculously appeared
as a feather from the angel's wing,
to soothe me as I embrace your seed.
These tiny copies of you.
And time no longer an enemy, to
divide me from the ones I love,
has become the light which glows
upon the past.
The things I could not do.
The moments lost, are now the
precious memories of little boys
who have become great fathers,
and I love time!
The Epp'ual Tide
Paint me a picture of Golden sand,
sheltering auburn drops from
Paint me a picture of skies bright
stars, glistening from velvet tips
adorning sylvan'd light.
Paint me a picture of rose gardens
neatly arrayed, softly whispering
sweet baby's breath.
Paint me a picture of playgrounds
filled, children's faces tumbling
Paint me a picture where man can
survive, without distinction of
race or creed.
Ah, utopia home at last, where
life's most intimate thoughts
are spoken and dreams come true.BR>
A Halo Through The Window East
Sitting "cross the room, I catch a glimpse she's aged yet still tender,
as younger years have slowly disappeared.
Within her heart still lays a hunger for caring, what is she thinking,
carefully takes out her embroidery and begins the evenings joy.
As I remember so well, the softness of her touch ,the kindness in her soul,
always giving to those she loved, and to the stranger passing by.
Would I be what I am today, had it not been for her, my mother,
a jewel of life, caring not for wealth or fame, but for all mankind.
When she enters Heaven, her crown will glow, and I can hear the music
of the angel's chorus, as the gates swing open wide.
A saint born to cross this rugged earth, without one thought for gold,
so that others might know the joy in humility.
And as the wrinkled smiles remember yesteryear, she begins a faint hum,
beauty from beyond comes forth in song, as she merrily embraces life.
And when that time draws near, her path shall brighten,
she will join the
Heavenly orchestras, as Jesus
reaches out His hand to take her home.
And through the window east, the faintest aura hovers where she sat,
this thoughtful woman I call mom.
What a glorious day, now to see
the beginning of the close.
\The pines erect, towering lofty,
over-shadowed by dusk.
\Skies misty clouds drift slowly,
with stars dim glow.
\A faint trickle of the beaver's
dam, as the stream flows still.
\The trees give way, to bird's echoes,
synthesizing angelic choirs.
\Blossoms sleep, as voices of the eve
become faint, undisturbed serenity.
\A restful slumber, then awakens, to
another lovely day, ah, we are alive.
Daddy Sings With The Angels
Life was not so fair, illness filled your body,
and they took you home too soon, you rode the
clouds to meet Him on His throne.
Oh daddy, you were in His plan, for the church
house was overflowing that day, your life became
a blessing to all.
Are you looking down on earth, with your angel
wings spread, still protecting me, your darling
Daddy, I miss you so, and see your face aglow,
you taught me morals and values, with your
bright insight on life.
If you can see and hear me up there, know that
I thank you and love you, as always I will.
One day I'll join you, see your smiles once
more, together we will share the angel's voices,
praising Him forevermore.
As life slowly passes by, hair begins to
gray, memories fade, and this old body fails,
a shadow's still here, this spirit coming
from God, alive and well, blossoming as
flowers after a long hard rain, basking in
the sunshine, and the winds cool breeze,
carries me away.
This physical world has lost its importance,
and if another day never comes, to look into
the eyes of what could or should have been,
living has been fulfilled, never taking one
breath for granted, but loving each moment,
never fearing a single instant of living, or dying.
Should I pass away tomorrow, nothing has been
lost, only gained, for this soul will soar
with the angels, as Jesus, giver of life
calls His child home, may my shadowed
memory in time, linger on.
The Hand Of God
You were just a tiny thing, gentle, pure, I held
you in my arms, my pride, my joy, my all
As a young child you climbed high into the
trees, reached out your arms, hoping all the
world could see, in your simplified delight.
And then the tides turned one day, you walked
away from God, I tried to teach right from
wrong, but my efforts were in vain.
Yet God held you tenderly, though you nor I
had His knowledge, He had a plan for you,
He placed His hands on your heart, held you in
His arms, He only let you slip awhile, then
gently brought you back, before the taint
of evil pierced your soul.
Now I see you, as a young man, with a
golden glow upon your face, and His
plan safely in its place
A mother's prayers are answered, no more
tears or pain, for you are in His fold once
more, standing to forever praise His name.
Sunny shadows, images of blossoms,
sparkle in the stream, a quiet little
shanty, awaits the dreamer, with a
lighted pass of imaginations.
Hiding in the graze, a beautiful
secluded tier, creating fantacies
of romantic interims, waltzing
mindfully in the heart.
As the cool peaceful river, trickles
abrest, endless reveries, once again
thru treasured paths, vistas begin to
vanish, reality returns.
Utopian dreams, carress the soul,
inspiring amorous emotions, scant
reflections of joyful youth, enliven
the spirit anew.
Fraile Body's silouette upon the window pane.
Orchid Lavenders enhance the fragrance of
A wheeled chair, upholds the feeble one, sunken
and absorbed by hallows of the mind. Legacies no
longer pacify this weary soul.
Reminiscence becomes a mirage upon the naked
wall. Journey's continue, callow green has past
Dim reflections of childhood seen beyond,
rainbows in the sky. Magical, diligent,
artistic hands now lay idle.
Voice once so sweet, melodies in Psalm, outcry
harsh expressions. Glance to horizons, where
Longevity, Spirits vital flame, survives, outlives,
endures a century of Life. Commencement is yours
Lord. Work for this Old World is done.
Cry Of The Spirit
The pendulum of love, magnetizes
the soul's essence.
Music's splendor, poetry's impressions,
begin to decolor, like a rose, decaying
in the garden.
Painted silouette's of life, fall upon
the graying wall, cushioned by nature's
fragrance, to sacour one last fragment
The soul hails for freedom.
Delight me, let go, allow my spirit to
fly free with the wind.
May the Lord richly bless you!
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