The Pen

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You have been used to chronicle the rise
And fall of kingdoms, showing them to be
Far frailer than what many then could see.
You lend perspective to our searching eyes,
Reminding us that, under younger skies,
Stories of fears and foes and fantasy
Appeared in fiction and biography.
You keep the record of both truth and lies.

And through mere momentary markings, you
Can capture glimpses of eternity,
Can testify to what is ever true
In ev’ry ebb and flow of history,
Can tell the tale of what one Word can do
When written in the heart of one like me.


Photo by MJ S on Unsplash

Wants

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We want but are not satisfied in gain,
And so we gain new wants to add to old.
This futile journey is an old refrain
Of wants too weak to trust the Story told.
“Our hearts are restless till they rest in thee,”
The saint once wrote, and still his words resound.
They ring from Africa across the sea,
True both on foreign and familiar ground.
For we were wrought to reckon with our ends,
To know the purpose t’ward which passion points:
Temp’ral desires call for that which transcends;
What leads to life divides marrow and joints.
O LORD, align our wanting with your will,
And turn our hearts to you and so fulfill.


Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash

The quoted line above refers to a line from Augustine’s Confessions.

Posture of Worship

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Palms outstretched in offering,
Bowing low, I meet my king.
In humility, I sing.

In the market, in the square,
Souls surround me. You are there.
Though I move, you hear my prayer.

In the darkness cold and still,
As I sit against my will,
I look up and you fulfill.

Through the music and the word,
Worship serves to undergird.
I receive and I am heard.

May my posture ever be
Tempered by eternity
As I learn to walk with thee.


Photo by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash

Thanks to Maci for suggesting the title and topic of this poem.

Despite What Eyes Can See

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I neither like nor understand your “no,”
Yet neither are required for me to trust
That you make straight the way I am to go
E’en when desires give way to thirst and dust.
If you withhold no good thing from your own,
Then your withholding must be for the best.
I may feel I am utterly alone;
I know you have a purpose for this test.
The LORD will never fail. Thus it is joy
To walk the path of sorrow for a time.
The surest hope, none ever can destroy.
No valley deep can halt the upward climb.
Your love holds fast despite what eyes can see,
Thus sight always defers to faith in thee.


Photo by Jaleel Akbash on Unsplash