Hoping

Hoping while waiting’s a slow steady trudge
Like the creeping of lava or the “stuck” of a sludge
A hope that moves forward, one step at a time
Then waits to be certain the next step’s defined

Hope and endurance, when both are at hand
Are the dogged forbearance, ere you walk or you stand
Hope sees the light at the tunnel’s deep end
So enduring the slog has a masterful edge

A hope laid in trust, is a hope that’s secure
When a trudge, or a wait, or a walk you endure
The One who is proven a trustworthy soul
Is where hope’s that are realised can make a soul whole

7/1/2020

The Compassion and the Passion

A merciless master
My suffering prolonged
O sin, you would have me
Alone, without song

My saviour, the servant
Compassion’s concern
Would pursue all my rescue
E’en while I yet spurned

With glory obscured
Power hidden, en-veiled
He served us, his humans
Then the mountain he scaled

Raised to be lowered
Shame brought release
For my sin-burdened soul
To find its long-lasting peace

In your death…
The inherited cycle is broke
Sin’s hold cannot keep me
Your new life brings me hope

Life-blood’s passed on
From parent to child
In your blood shed abroad
I’m no longer beguiled

Sin’s great deception?
That I’m still compelled
To do all its bidding
That I’m under its spell

But my Jesus, you triumphed
In freedom, empowered
A spirit-led choice
To walk the life I’m endowed

With bended knee’s adoration
In restored humanity, stand
Before the depth of your feeling
Poured over me, by your hand

19/4/2019

Christmas Wish and New Year Hope – Southern Hemisphere

My Christmas wish for you will be
That New Year’s hope will let you see
Each passing month fulfils a dream
Stitched together, a lifelong seam

January
Heat settles in
A brand new year will now begin
Summer dry
Tropic wet
Forest fire, by flood beset

February
Last hot haze
Some longing now for cooler days
Night may cool
Day may not
Off to school, no matter what

March-ing
Into season’s change
Expanding all our colour range
Cooling down
Drying off
A northern storm may yet scoff

April
Showers, an appearance make
As we of feast and fast partake
Memorials
Remembrance
Learn from other, without offence

May
Or we may not yet
Have southern blasts of cold and wet
A settled north
Or last great storm
Another season soon will dawn

June
Dark and gloom, or white of snow
Storms shift from north, to south below
Cooled, refreshed
Or sunless mood
Restlessness for closed-in brood

July
Mid-winter, bleak or not
Swim the oceans, ski the tops
Northern depths
Southern peaks
Or waiting out the cold, dark weeks

August
Whether the weather brings tear or song
Sport will gather many a throng
Bouncing, kicking
Passing, strike
Cheering the family, team, or the like

September
Weather, subtle change
Drought begins, or wet remains
Brighter days
Unseen storms
Races, finals, spring to form

October
Weariness – year’s end in view
Not close enough to offer new
Horizons or
Begin agains
Fret not! A year will always end

November
Brings a spring in step
Horses? Flowers? Sneezes? You bet!
Make some hay
Take exams
Shorter nights, a day expands

December
Sun – the year’s sunset
Soon a new one will be met
Graduate
Reflect and pause
Embrace the new, pursue your cause

28/11/2018 – 16/2/2019

Good Friday 2018

Blood Red
Bright Red Blooms

Blood red shines brightest – by light of day

White and clean – in the sunlight’s rays

Without the night, there is no day

Day brings hope, when night comes our way

In Sunlight's Rays
White Flowers in the Morning Sun

Darkness hides – a coverlet

In light exposed – a life well lit

A cover shifts, and slides, and slips

And light awaits – to come to grips

With all that’s hidden, oppressed and weak

 

To bring pow’r, relief, and sweet release

Light of Day
Bench shadowed beneath a tree, morning sun ready to break through

30/3/2018

The Tree

A tree stood outside of the village.

Few noticed the tree as they went about the business of their days and nights.

But of those few who saw the tree, and stepped aside from the road to look closer, none would remain as they once were.

All who came to the tree saw their names carved into the timber.

All who kneeled before the tree and reached out to touch and own that they recognized their own name on this tree, grateful that they were named there, found they were washed by the tree’s life-blood, till they were clothed anew, white like light.

By this light were these few of the few given to see their gifts beneath the tree – once again, named with their own name.

Of these few clothed in white light, some would never open their gifts, some would open, but never use that contained within.

But a few of these few would receive, open, and use their own named gifts. They would provide for each other by use of these gifts. They would provide for those whose gifts remained unopened or unused. They would even provide for the passers-by, on the road and in the village.

As these few, of the few, of the few accessed and used their gifts, their gifts increased in depth and beauty and strength – and the few grew themselves, in strength, beauty, joy, insight and peace – their light shone brighter with every use of their gifts.

And those who came to the tree, saw their name engraved there, but would not acknowledge it as their own, nor embrace the tree and its gifts with gratefulness, wandered endlessly.

Unsettled in the village, unsettled on the road, and resentful of the tree…

…The tree stood outside of the village, off the oft-travelled road, but high and lifted up on the hill…

the bestower of life, gifts, restoration and purpose.

22/5/2015

The Tree

 

Sustainer

Crouched, huddled, humbled

Cowering in grief and loneliness

Hunched over, enveloped in darkness

Afraid, ashamed and alone;

Albeit desirous of great comfort, forgiveness, connection,

Emancipation, peace, deliverance

 

And yet, I hear a voice.

Soothing, inaudible – yet not.

Distinct, definitive, refreshing

Dare I turn?

Dare I look upward?

Dare I risk vulnerability?

Light?

 

I must!

I can no longer live in fear and uncertainty.

This is not living.

 

Rolling, unraveling

Standing, turning, reaching

The Voice is Light, and Rock, and Mountain Height

Where the eagle rests,

Out of reach of any who would prevail in the valley

 

Still the voice calls.

I am drawn, but I cannot reach.

I whisper.

I breathe afresh

Deeply, drawing in refreshment

Expelling all that would hinder

 

I call aloud to the Voice, the Rock, the Height above all.

Desperate, pleading, repenting of all that has been my own;

All that has left me entailed to the dark of fear and shame

 

I am lifted up,

On eagle wings,

To lofty peak,

In crevice rest.

Above

Beyond

Safe

Free

Untouchable by darkness

I see the Light shine on me.

Unhindered view

The warmth of wings – of comfort

The security of Rock – fortress

 

I sleep in peace

Nourishment is sweet

No fear of abandonment

The Voice, ever present

 

Only when He has prepared me

Shall we go on from here

Together

One

The Sustainer and the sustained

 

6/3/2015