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fishing

Fishing

From beginning to end of time,
infinite depth and perfect creation,
are covered by a veil so very thin.

Now 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.
Yet planning my escaping paths
,
but truth be told, I may not go that far.

 

Status

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 worthwhile 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.

 

Pain

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,
or the cause not seeking God.

Talk to Father set your goal,
and shine you bright light soul
.

 

Alone

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
.

So very 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
.

 

Lost

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,
or 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.

 

Just Words

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.

 

Saved

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
.

 

The Immigrant

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.

><>*<><

J.G

© J.G

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