Poetry Sunday ~ No Heaven in Hell

Pss. 139:8 “If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there.”

No Heaven in Hell

*a repost from 2015

There is no heaven in hell

Only a place for sin to dwell

The liars charred in flaming fire

When hell becomes their one desire.

There is no hell in heaven

Souls transform like leaven

To rise above the earthly skies

Heaven gives home to the wise.

There is no heaven in hell

The hypocrites home a shell

Tears will be shed for the dead

Who dare not cling to the Bread.

There is no hell in Heaven

Unclean souls to beckon

Roaming through the stardust light

Bid the cosmos a sweeping g’nite.

There is no heaven in hell

The party’s over it's time to quell

Thirst you crave throughout the day

Allow our Lord to Light the way!

~ ~ ~ * * * ~ ~ ~

Isa. 35: 8-10 And a highway will be there;

    it will be called the Way of Holiness;

    it will be for those who walk on that Way.

The unclean will not journey on it;

    wicked fools will not go about on it.

 No lion will be there,

    nor any ravenous beast;

    they will not be found there.

But only the redeemed will walk there,

     and those the Lord has rescued will return.

They will enter Zion with singing;

    everlasting joy will crown their heads.

Gladness and joy will overtake them,

    and sorrow and sighing will flee away.

Poetry Sunday ~ The Soul's Ascent

Pss. 11: 1 "In the LORD put I my trust: How say ye to my soul, Flee as a bird to your mountain?"

The Soul's Ascent

I peered up at the towering mount 

That glistened from the snow

Would I reach that velvet cap 

That no one dared to go 

The very tip seems to drift

In a string of pearly lace 

No end in sight for it was hidden

Upon this rocky face 

Burgeoning trees whispered still 

They called within the deep 

Nature would carry my weary legs 

If for my soul to keep 

Every aching step I took

Impelled in me to climb 

A voice was beckoning in my head 

Transcending the sublime 

I walked on faded fury 

As the summit reared its head 

The stones were trembling underfoot 

My essence being fed 

Every time I stumbled about 

My eyes would rise to see

The brilliance of the lemon rays 

Shining down on me

I gasp for air my final steps 

What seems to last for miles 

My bated breath my moistened brow 

Slowly, sweeps the aisles

I let it out a HOWLING yell 

I gaze at the valley below

My echoes resound in empty space 

My soul begins to glow

I reach the powdered summit 

My mind now crystal clear

It's never the journey taken... 

It's relinquishing all you fear!

Poetry Sunday - My Gift To You

John 14:10 “Believest thou not that I am in the Father, and the Father in me? the words that I speak unto you I speak not of myself: but the Father that dwelleth in me, he doeth the works.”

My Gift To You

God asked me to use the talents

That He had blessed me with

The sharing of the Word I hear

The truth and not a myth.

I sent the Word into the world

A message delivered to me

It was a ripple on the lake

For all the world to see.

The words they entered in my ear

And out of my fingers bled

My gift of writing words to you

Is where my soul was led.

God was pleased when he saw

My talent not gone to waste

The gentle words about His Son

I fed the world a taste.

Some people sit idly by

Saving their earthly treasures

Their talents, gifts and so much more

With all their worldly pleasures.

Rise up you sleeping people

For the new world that awaits

The life that’s left behind you

As you enter heaven’s gates.

Soul Ascent

Pss. 11: 1 In the LORD put I my trust: How say ye to my soul, Flee as a bird to your mountain?

Soul Ascent

I peered up at the towering mount,
That glistened from the snow.
Would I reach that velvet cap,
That no one dared to go?

The very tip seems to drift,
In a string of pearly lace.
No end in sight for it was hid,
Upon this rocky face.

Burgeoning trees whispered still.
They called within the deep.
Nature would carry my weary legs.
If for my soul to keep.

Every aching step I took,
Impelled in me to climb.
A voice was beckoning in my head.
Transcending the sublime.

I walked on faded fury,
As the summit reared its head.
The stones were trembling underfoot,
My essence being fed.

Every time I stumbled about,
My eyes would raise to see.
The brilliance of the lemon rays,
Shining down on me.

I gasp for air my final steps,
What seems to last for miles.
My bated breath my moistened brow,
Slowly, sweeps the aisles.

I let it out a HOWLING yell!!!!
I gaze at the valley below.
My echoes resound in empty space,
My soul begins to glow.

I reach the powdered summit.
My mind now crystal clear

It's never the journey taken...
It's relinquishing all you fear!!!

Poetry Sunday ~ Vanity Has Risen

 Job 7: 3 So am I made to possess months of vanity, and wearisome nights are appointed to me.

Vanity has Risen

My concern is for man

Who sits idly by

Watching as the world

Erupts in tears they cry.

A man content on living

And never really being

A source of light to all

of those that are seeing.

Words are bent and broken

Twisted in the sphere.

Truth mangled in the web

The dripping of a tear.

Why is man so willing

Happy to just exist.

Never seeking inner peace

In the land that God has kissed.

His vanity contains him

In works that he must do.

No blood of man is worth change

So he opts to muddle through.

No rest will lay upon his head

No peace will let him sleep.

His journey in the darkness

Is for him alone to keep.

Rise up you sleeping nation

There’s a duty at your feet.

Don’t wait until the judgment

When your Maker you will meet!

Rev. 3:15-16 I know thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot: I would thou wert cold or hot. So then because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spue thee out of my mouth.

Poetry Sunday ~ Seasons in the Sand

Matt. 19: 24 And again I say unto you, It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.

Seasons in the Sand

On wayward sand I stretch my hand

as frothy water flows

on the solid Rock I stand

relieved of passing woes.

The seasons of my mind are lit

with every wistful shower.

The Spirit’s here where I sit

to fill my every hour

The morning comes He breathes in me

the dawn of a new day.

He gives me sight so I can see

the path you went astray.

On wayward sand I stretch my hand

granules in my clutch

You’re taken by the wavy band

the grains you dare not touch.

Tis easier for the camel

to pass through the needles eye

Than you who’s merely mammal

to seek answers in the sky.

The seasons of my mind unfold

His Word for me to preach.

As ribbons of the Truth be told

like footprints on the beach.

 

 

Poetry Sunday ~ The Wanderer

2 Chron. 36: 16 But they mocked the messengers of God, and despised his words, and misused his prophets, until the wrath of the LORD arose against his people, till there was no remedy.

Wanderer

***

The leaves are turning yellow,

the sky a flowing gray.

the days are getting shorter

I awake to embrace the day.

My days are all spent longing

for the journey I must take

the one where God calls me home

where I no longer have to ache.

Shallow minds are walking

like zombies in the field.

knowing not the truth in life

or the hurting acts they yield.

My God is not on TV

or in my computer screen,

He doesn’t live in radio

or a picture perfect scene.

He cannot be tossed around

spewed forth on a whim.

Not one to be mocked lightly

He demands all praise to Him.

The Lord my God is cradled

deep within my soul

giving sight to all my world

I’m now all warm and whole.

Job 21: 3 Suffer me that I may speak; and after that I have spoken, mock on.

Poetry Sunday ~ The Color of Hope

Pss.16: 9 Therefore my heart is glad, and my glory rejoiceth: my flesh also shall rest in hope.

The Color of Hope

Would you paint it red

for the fiery passion

that’s lit inside

the essence of your being?

Would the orange of

your light be dashed

with flecks of stone

that ignite your heart?

Would it shine of yellow

like the sun that fills

you with the very light

of your soul?

Would you feather it in green

like the fields of color

that blossom in the

artists hue of spring?

Would it be cloaked in blue

like the depths of the

wavy ocean that’s

a part of your emotional stance?

Would it be disguised

as the indigo of life

warming your very fingertips

that brush the earth.

Or would it be painted violet

to add vibrancy to an already

living palette of bursting

breathing color?

Hope lies in the blush

of a colorful prism

that veils your world

in a bounty of love.

Poetry Sunday ~ Coyotes Call

Coyotes Call

Coyotes are singing their morning call

They’re scampering through the fields.

The chill is biting as the full moon sets

The road they cross to no car yields.

In a pack they huddle around

Seeking food for the long nights haul

Howling murmurs can be heard

The echoes of their maul.

The sun is rising; they run and hide

You hear their cries of morn

They scurry about as light abounds

To sleep as a new day’s born.

 

John 10:12 But he that is an hireling, and not the shepherd, whose own the sheep are not, seeth the wolf coming, and leaveth the sheep, and fleeth: and the wolf catcheth them, and scattereth the sheep.

 

 

Poetry Sunday ~ Fields of Green

Pss. 102: 7 I watch, and am as a sparrow alone upon the house top.

Fields of Green

I no longer feel that I belong

I’m out on the farm all alone.

Washing over the fields so green

No more do I feel I’m my own.

I’m distant from the child I knew

The one who weathered the storms

I’m just a woman who day by day

Wakes up and mechanically performs.

My life was in the big city

Tall buildings; concrete domes

Paved roads and business mecca’s

Lined streets with towering homes.

Commotion was on every corner.

My mother and father were near.

I felt a part of a bloodline

Now no longer is anyone here.

Sure I’m made to feel family

I’m treated with love and care.

But often I feel an outsider

Not one secret worthy to share.

I’ll wallow here in self-pity,

While everyone's called to serve.

I’ll sit alone with fields of green

Wondering why I chose to swerve.

Poetry Sunday ~ Isolation

Isolation

***

The house echoes of the emptiness found inside

like an unending tunnel where light is obscure.

The noise erupts with no one to confide

My lips are parched, as my heart lay pure.

Loneliness wraps my body in its outstretched arms;

nestles me in the warmth of a longing embrace.

I am alone in the silence that bears down and harms

the fullness of my being in this comely place.

The violence erupts but it is far from me

and all I can do is bow my head in prayer

as the isolation swallows my sanity

I seek to find you but you’re not there.

My only friend in sorrowful times of longing

is the empty space of my voice unheard;

Isolation traps me in the field of belonging

Left unattended with the pain I’ve incurred.

The solitude has me in its restless clutch

as no one is here to hold my hand.

I long for someone; anyone’s touch;

so alone in seclusion our beating hearts stand.

Poetry Sunday ~ Disillusion

Ps. 109:29 Let mine adversaries be clothed with shame, and let them cover themselves with their own confusion, as with a mantle.

Disillusion

 ***

You say you love

but do not know

the meaning of the word.

you say you care but can not bear

all things that you have heard.

You say you need

but do you know

the necessity of your own

you say you want

all things they haunt

and never make a home.

You say you see

all of me

but do you really know.

the depth and breadth

of my soul, to no one

will I show!

You try to beguile

this is true,

you are not what you seem.

You give you take

the heart of me

but will not dim my beam.

A ray of light

shines forth from me

no longer a part of the fusion.

I walked away to

a brighter day as

you wallow in disillusion.

Poetry Sunday ~ Shine On

Job 33: 30 To bring back his soul from the pit, to be enlightened with the light of the living.

Shine On...

My yesterdays have gone astray

they lurk forever more.

hiding behind the pain inside,

they seek an open door.

My today’s have been quite lovely

whenever I praise His name.

nothing can hold me captive;

through Him I’m not the same.

My tomorrows will be brighter

more days of sun not rain.

it’ll wash away my sorrows

driving off the inner pain.

My past is gone forever

I hold the hidden key.

On a chain around my neck

it’s locked all memory.

The future of mine has promise

as a beacon holds my gaze

I long for life within the realm

where I carry all my days.

The Lord is the comforting arms,

my strength, my shield, my rock.

I may hold the key to my soul

it is HE who made the lock!

The Opening

The Opening

Opening my mind I try to see,

the luscious land surrounding me.

Like all the flowers standing proud,

underneath a rain-burst cloud.

The fields they sprout a gushy green

whether corn or crop of soy bean.

Rows and rows in my view

I’ll share the beauty with all of you.

The sounds they call me in the night

the wicked howls of wind in flight.

Trees all mourn from daytime heat

leaves they clamor like little feet.

The pasture wakes with vibrant breath

awaiting harvest its imminent death.

Pivots roll across the land

to moisten earth with guided hand.

Fluttering petals with gracious class

all salute you as you pass,

A blade of grass can be seen

bowing down as you preen.

This place is home, with springtime flare,

a perfect place to sit in prayer.

As one door opens another closes

I’ll spend my time just smelling roses!

Poetry Sunday ~ Home: Alone

Home; Alone

In my ideal world

I isolate myself from the society

that has let me down.

I run through the fields of

golden streams.

I play in the solitude of bliss.

I long to hear the sounds

of rustling leaves.

No voices to distract me;

just peace and quiet.

Even  the quiet carries a hum;

a rhythm of  cascading nothingness

that takes me to a place in my mind

where I alone can talk to God;

and He can talk back.

I yearn to be left alone.

No cares or wares for me

to treasure; just the basic

needs of food and water.

I need to be alone for it is

where God cradles me and allows

me to cry in His arms.

My eyes unleash a river

as my world gets muddled;

He caresses me as His robe is

puddled ...by my tears.

Am I home yet, Lord?

Poetry Sunday ~ The Path I Take

The Path I Take

As curious winds dance about

snow lay at my feet

swirling in my mind is doubt

for all the world to meet.

Take my hand and walk me through

the life that has a muddled hue.

Swift soft whispers of the day

spin my life around

stellar are the stars I see

they lift me off the ground.

Hold me now for I am weak

my Father’s face, do I seek.

Step lightly as you pass.

on wilted willows bough;

Windows open breath falls in

I’m here amongst you now.

He breathes new life into me

I share for all the world to see.

Poetry Sunday ~ Seasonal Change

Pss. 102: 26 They shall perish, but thou shalt endure: yea, all of them shall wax old like a garment; as a vesture shalt thou change them, and they shall be changed:

Seasonal Change

* ~ * ~ *

The winds came briskly at the start of the day

sweeping the fields while out to play.

The sun partially hidden by bold dark caves

peeking out in increment waves.

The dormant trees bend to and fro

as new spring blossoms hang on and grow.

Shivering in winters seeming last touch

deadened limbs break off and such.

Just as in life wild storms erupt

making the soul feel somewhat corrupt.

Wrestling with the maniac season

calmly you pray for a justified reason.

Slowly you’re rid of worn out sorrow

you’ve reached a path to a better tomorrow.

Reclaiming your soul you fuse with God

standing strong upholding the rod.

Rejoicing now with hymns of praise

the cloudburst passed with sun-swept rays.

There’s only one storm you’re sure to win

The realization that your God’s within!

Poetry Sunday ~ Is Nothing Sacred ~ Tears

Pss. 126:5 They that sow in tears shall reap in joy.

 Is Nothing Sacred

***  

While walking down the streets alone,
I take in all the sights.
My how life has changed and grown
All is vain in lights.

Where is respect for ones self worth
Where is inner love?
Where has chastity gone from birth?
Closed is the door above.

We force upon their innocence
All vanity which is false.
Lending them free preference,
Betrayal with a pulse.

Children want to be all grown up
Exposing all their skin,
Losing purity the youthful cup,
For pathways led by sin.

No one holds a key to his soul,
In ashes shall they fall?
Never once will they feel whole,
When the reaper makes his call.
*  *  *
Tears

Like icy clouds that form in the sky,
drops of pain creep from my eye.
Weightless they form a fluid stream;
life has forced a layered seam.

Tears are like capsules, of liquid release.
Hidden by lids they secretly cease.
The eye a doorway of repressed emotion
that drops a brew of poisoned potion.

Salty tears run evermore
softly sounds pound the floor.
Dripping echoes of seated pain;
seeping slowly a fluid rain.

The tear is weightless in its stand.
Lapping forth like waves on sand.
Going alone down the wrinkled aisle,
seeking to ride the sorrowful mile.

What will stop this rippling river?
Depths of joy I must deliver.
I raise my eyes to the skies above,
my tears become His kiss of love.

Poetry Sunday ~ Standing Strong through the Storm

Standing Strong through the Storm

***

The waves in life crash all around

I fall to my knees onto the ground

The Lord my God He keeps me warm

Standing strong through the storm.

I feel I walk in sinking sand

Judged for things in which I stand.

The waves they gush without a form

Standing strong through the storm.

I raise my head so I can be

A future bright for all to see.

A woman that shall not conform,

Standing strong through the storm.

I’m in a world where many sleep

A shepherds light for all lost sheep.

Before you you’ll see a woman transform

Standing strong through the storm.

My footprints I will leave behind

Fully sighted no longer blind.

The Lord my God will keep me warm,

Standing strong through the storm.

Poetry Sunday

Live to Die

Born of this world

we are doomed to try,

Doomed to live

but freed we die.

Life speeds by

no time to slow

The mind is often

not allowed to grow.

Smell the flowers

breathe the air,

Slow the motion

of life with care.

Beauty in sunsets

the rising moon.

Cherish it all

it ends too soon.

* * * *

Our Earthly Duty

My mind spins a column of webs

in this clouded world we live.

Worldly possessions of wants

never outsource what we give.

I feel I’m alone in pursuit

of wanting to see it end.

Wars, fires and poverty

bureaucracy unwilling to bend.

Changing it all for the better

a haunting daunting task.

One by one we succumb

shedding our outer mask.

Now is the time to rise above;

take aim at our earthly duty.

Each man on his own mission

to share the wealth of beauty!