DEAD COLD FAITH.
Faith is a dance until the devil is our partner;
Then only Christ can be the subject of our creed
When tomorrow holds no future promise for us
And yesterday is jury for our deeds.
Where I will have lost all of my persuasion
And death is loudly knocking on my door
Christ will be the only one left standing
And eternity will want to even up the score.
What hope will there be for the likes of most men
Who counted themselves as winners all their lives?
My God, the heavenly court of the angels and the saints
Will be the judges who my poor fate must decide.
Will I know the song of praise and of thanksgiving?
And the music that would elevate my soul?
Or will I just be standing there and chattering gibberish?
In the hopes that I will be called in from the cold.
2014.02.27.0000 ©
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WATERY GRAVE
I am drowning
And there is no one
Who hears my cries
Or who can rescue me;
I have drifted too far away
From the safety of the shore.
I am victim of my own need and desire
To be the master of the fate I must now abjure;
As I sink beneath the surface of the waters
Which I have challenged all my life by faith in Christ;
The very waters that were waiting for my weariness to develop
While by their dark deep beauty, I was so enticed.
Will I rise again to find another inspiration?
Or must I inhale the water as my dying breath?
With a hope that all the faith which I counted on in the living
Will be, in the end, the source of my compelling strength.
Waters take me home to depths beyond my vision;
And to visions of the depths that eluded me
While I was so intent on floating on the surface
That I could not your strange beauty clearly see.
2014.02.27.0000 ©
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COSTLY JOURNEY
I am trying with all my heart and strength
To find myself alone and naked before God;
But no matter what I do, my sins have me lost in the world;
So I am hoping that communion with the faith
Or with the dark night will find me
Once again within the eternal twirled;
Swimming in a torrent,
More a current than an eddy,
That will take me
Where my solitude must learn
That no matter how much I would move
About the likes of men
I must for my God and Savior always yearn.
Yes, it takes me too much effort
After such a worldly journey
To recover again
The pilgrimage of my soul
For I am reminded of the dues
That are always asked of me there
And that they are much less a donation
Than a toll.
2014.02.27.0100 ©
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CLEARCREEKMONKS.ORG
A solitary poetic journey,
Finding salvation in more than the sky;
And bringing the hope and the glow of eternity
Down to a people that desires not to die;
Losing themselves in faith-filled dreams
And stars that seem so still,
Wanting to learn the promise of kinship
In the practice of the Father’s Will;
Nothing but holding a return to nature
Can their religious desire fill.
2014.02.27.0200 ©
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