Shalom to all who enter.

Tag Archives: poetry

 

I am running as fast as I can on the road that goes nowhere.

The Cheshire Cat lied as he smiled at me and said

If I ran long enough I’d get somewhere.

In this land where things are not what they seem to be,

I have forgotten who I am and where I am going.

 

 

If I don’t know who I am, then where do I go with all my running.

Who am I? A product of chance and the sod?

A dispensable taxi for disdainful DNA?

Does my life have meaning and purpose?

Or do I live to just pass DNA on?

Dust to dust, sending forth seed and then I am done?

If that’s all I am, then why do I run?

Why do I dream the impossible dream

Or try to reach the unreachable star?

But, what if the other story were true,At rest

That I am the child of the Most High God,

Named and treasured, loved and cherished,

Nothing random about me at all?

Is it that the impossible dream, the unreachable star

Is found in the place of rest within My Creator’s heart?


Songs of JoyWatchman what of the night?

Dawn gilds the skies.

On those who sit in the valley of death

The Sun of Righteousness shines.

Healing pours down

The outcast are gathered in

The broken-hearted comforted

The faint receive new strength

Hope breaks forth in seeking hearts

Shackles break

Awake O my soul and sing

Shake off the dust of guilt and shame

Throw off the ball and chain

The Daystar dawns grace

Mercy and truth are met together;

Righteousness and peace have kissed each other.

My cup runs over with

Unstoppable songs of joy

As my spirit finds its Rest.


Peace be unto you!

Peace be unto you!

Behind locked doors

Fears shake and rattle hearts.

What does the future hold

Persecution? Death? Trials?

Peace be unto you!

I, the Lord

Who holds the keys

Of death and hell,

Stand among you and say –

Peace be unto you!

Within locked hearts

Questions seethe and rage

Who am I? Where do I fit in?

What is my calling now?

Peace be unto you!

I called you by name

Before the world was made

To be my witness faithful and true;

As my Father sent me

So send I you.

Within locked minds

The pendulum swings

To trust or not to trust

Where can my mind find rest?

Peace be unto you!

Touch My wounded side and hands

Be at rest in the Truth

Abide in My love

Come alive in My Spirit

Peace be unto you!

Our God is merciful and tender.

He will cause the bright dawn of salvation to rise on us

to shine from heaven on all those who live in the dark shadow of death,

to guide our steps into the path of peace.

Luke 1:78-79

I give you peace,

the kind of peace that only I can give.

It isn’t like the peace that this world can give.

So don’t be worried or afraid.

John 14:27

May the Lord himself,

who is our source of peace,

give you peace at all times and in every way.

The Lord be with you all.

2 Thess 3:16


Secret Gardens

Secret Gardens

Why do I feel like I want to walk in a garden

Draw in the elusive fragrance of dew soaked earth

Haunting perfumes of fresh open buds

Wisping and weaving intangible rainbows

Blown in on teasing zephyrs

Caressing and lifiting the locks for a careless moment

Light as a butterfly

Then drifting on to invigorate another weary heart.

Today my heart rebels against being in a concrete jungle. True, as I look out of my windows I see more greenery and flowers than most urbanites are privileged to see. True, in my life I have been privileged than many people to visit beautiful gardens. I am trying hard to be satisfied. I am trying hard to be grateful. I am trying hard to be contented.

Whispers of past gardens

Steal out of dusty memory boxes

Stored sunshine and smiles

Teasingly tweak the toes of discontent

And ruffle longings awake.

Gardens…

Eden – perfect, complete, perfect shalom

Flaming swords blocking the path

Lonely longing.

Nebuchadnezzar’s famed hanging gardens

Pride, pleasure-seeking, luxury

Cloaking bitter oppression and tyranny.

Gethsemane – sleeping friends,

Gnarled olive trees bear mute witness

Drops of blood, a gut-wrenching act of worship

Father, Your will…

The garden of tombs, a stone rolled away

An empty tomb, a weeping woman

A Saviour who pauses and turns

To comfort, for in the heart of a worshipper

He found a garden

To delight and refresh His heart.

One thing I love about Munich is its hidden gardens. When one walks down the streets, it often seems one is walking past continuous blocks of buildings, without even a gap to separate them. Quite dull, regular and boring. Till the summer showers arrive. Then suddenly the air is full of elusive perfumes of flowers and herbs. In the beginning I was really puzzled how that could be since there was not a single flower in sight. Then I discovered that those sternly beautiful facades hid courtyards which housed lawns and gardens. Private. Hidden. For the secret pleasure and delight of the residents. Others are shut out. Till the rain and breezes reveal the hidden gardens beguiling and delighting the passerby.

Sanctified. Set apart. Consecrated. For the Master alone. Yet perfume spills forth to bless others.

My bride, my very own, you are a garden, a fountain closed off to all others.

Let the north wind blow, the south wind too!

Let them spread the aroma of my garden, so the one I love may enter and taste its delicious fruits.

Song of Solomon 4:12, 16


 

Worshipper

Broken alabaster jar

Perfume wisps and wraps

Blessing One who is to be

Broken and poured forth.

Abandoned water pitcher

Feet run to proclaim

Living Waters that drench

The parched and weary soul

Lifegiving Fount who would soon cry

‘I thirst’.

Embalming spices

Lie forgotten

The Promise Keeper

The Mystery of God revealed

Stands before me

Why indeed should I seek

The Living among the dead?

The Saviour calls my name

Rabboni, Master, King

My heart makes reply

My spirit hears the homeward wooing

And whispers back

‘Lord, I am Yours’

not my will

Yours be done’


Deep calling to deep

Deep calling to deep

A voiceless longing rises

Deep calling to deep

In emptiness and brokenness

My heart stretches out to you

My Creator, Healer, Restorer

Face down I call Your Name

Sweet Balm of Gilead

Humble at heart

You stoop to lift me up

Your gentleness makes me ‘great’

Sun of Righteousness

You wrap me in Your healing warmth

Your very Name is as ointment

Poured forth

Fragrant and soothing

Cascades of love

My parched heart rejoices

Panting stilled

Rising tides

Spill forth joy

Bursting with rainbows of grace

My dancing soul in sweet rest

Bows down and cries

‘Father Your will

Not mine be done’

What is worship? Declaring the worth of God? Bowing our knees to honour Him? Rejoicing with singing, dancing and clapping?

What is worship? Mystic union – the moment when gazing into His face, touched afresh by the knowledge of His grace, all flesh is stilled, the soul acknowledges His goodness and His worth by saying – ‘Father, I am yours to command, send me’?

While each of us may have our own understanding of what worship is, one thing we cannot dispute that God our Creator and Saviour is worthy of worship.


Mind the gap.

We look at it

Measure it

Assess it

Don’t want to be swallowed by it

And yet, looking at the gap

Sucks us into it.

Mind the gap.

The distance between

What is

And what should be.

Baal-Peor

Lord of the Gap

Demands our worship

In tithes of discontentment

Resentment

And rage

But the gaps remain

Unfilled

Till One came

Laid down His life

Filled the greatest Gap of all

Gave us hope

That every valley will be exalted

Every mountain brought down

Every crooked place made straight

Every rough place made smooth

That we will see

True

Fraternity, Equality and Liberty

Established

May His kingdom come

His will be done

On earth as it is in heaven



%d bloggers like this: