The hidden depth of God’s creation
between here and there; there and here
is covered by a veil so very thin.
It must be breached to lure and capture
by trick and treat His other creatures
not with love but selfish deed.
Love for fishing; fishing for love
thoughts not words
in stillness and in peace.
Then shall we know
it is not fish for food or spirit need
but truth and love we seek.
At Seasons End
I live north of sixty latitude
where winters last nine months each year;
must have a positive mental attitude
to live here and persevere.
So very cold and mostly dark
and once again I say this is the final straw;
no more facing winter’s bark
escape the grip of devil’s claw.
At wit’s end and in despair
but wait the sun yes summer’s here;
this was the longest stretch I swear
we have no spring or fall all year.
Now there’s light the earth has warmed
so quick the melt and thaw;
the land and soul are now transformed
according to divine and timely law.
Forgotten are the winter blahs
short but sweet the summers are;
stopped seeking my escaping paths
but truth be told I will never go that far.
Time and time again
whenever meeting a new man
people feel the need to ask
to determine what’s his task.
Questions such as how are you
and next of course what do you do
just to get a worldly view
is he worthy talking to.
Rude so very rude
to ask and worse conclude
his height and rung and sadder
his ranking on that cursed status ladder.
It is where we stand
and the Lord be thanked
that many of God’s men
are just five foot ten.
See that knot pulled back and forth
reminds me of an immigrant’s desire
between his past and now the north
to be at peace with now but can’t acquire.
Who will win there is no draw
and if not now or when
it must be future it’s the law
too late to try again.
People born who’ve never moved
cannot truly understand
that he from foreign land removed
is like the knot in a rubber band.
We paint our window black
to block the light from shining back.
It’s why our hardened shell
hides the spirit oh so well.
Makes one wonder how we tick
is it pain that makes us thick?
Was it meant to be this odd
no the cause not seeking God.
Talk to Father set your goal
and shine you bright light soul.
Wounded hunched and broken down
they say his name is Mr. Brown
once he too walked proud and tall
amazing he can smile at all.
Now so fragile and so old
lonely as a snowman in the cold
a small ship on the largest seas
or the lost child in a sea of trees.
What’s worse to live from people far away
or close where no one seems to care much anyway
he reached for help with empty clutch
to stars like people but could not touch.
Now dead they say he’s missed
avoided daily whilst in their midst
hypocrisy lies and such
weakness never was accepted much.
Oh no here we go I’m lost
stop and think observe and plan
miles into the forest
keeping calm as best I can.
I do not know which way to go
heart racing now and no control
fighting panic fear and so
i am shaken to my core and soul.
Relax be calm not run about
concentrate and be alert
just let the adrenaline burn out
than make it worse and worse get hurt.
Found the trail that’s leading home
walking thinking why such doubt
just a stone’s throw more to go
so relieved I stumble out.
Born in a moment of love
and destined for a lifetime of pain
destruction assured and maybe a write off
words deadly as daggers insane.
Like a beautiful ship on the sea
through someone’s hate uncontrolled
torpedoed she sank now mainly debris
alone in the dark silent and cold.
There’s power in words
so resolve it today
for we know how we feel and it hurts
be careful the things that we say.
Think then talk and use the brain
let’s do our part
no reason to cause anyone pain
choose positive words from the heart.
Good or bad; right or wrong
we are judging all day long.
Very few have understood
there is really no one good.
Our righteousness is filthy rags
like vessels flying pirate flags.
Only God is good; pure and white
brighter than a blinding light.
Though sin is black as shades of grey
through Jesus we wear white on judgment day.