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Poems

Precious Guest
The Call
A New Creation
Fear of Man
The Unsearchable Ways of God
The Desert
Humility
War Games
Grabbing
City Dwellers
Evolution – A Poem of Tact, Diplomacy, and Gentle Persuasion
Abortion
The Specter of Fear
Atheists Cry
Judging
The Rest of God
We Are Branches, We Are One
The Wild
Have You Any Idea?
Desolation
Uncertainty
Resilience
Eggs
Money
All You Religious
The Sword
Delay
Bellyache, Bellyache
Friend, Are You?
Pioneers
Ode to a Harlot
The Higher Plane
Water Does Not Always Find the Lowest Level
The Chameleon
The Frenzy of Life
The Twice Dead
The Child of Evil
Terrible Good
Truth
The Vices’ Voices
A Sunset Seen
Help in Disguise
Help
Rools Four Inglish Spelling
I See a Boy
The Fire of God
Mystery
Immaturity
Periphery
God Reigns Supreme
Alone
Emptiness Within
I, The Wealthy Outcast
Day of Jubilee
My Boy
Come with Me
Two Adams
Bitterness
Stoning the Mirror

Related posts:

Grabbing
Who is going to do it – I or God? Who will initiate – the one led or the One leading? Do we help Him? Does He need our help? Were we around to help Him start it all? Do we think we must at least be around to help Him finish it? Do we have any understanding as to what the finish should be? Either I reign or God reigns. Either I call the shots or He does. And every soul is in damnation until it learns to put its trust entirely in Him. As one has already put it, “Let go and let God.”   Grab a hold! Grab with all you’ve got! Grab? Grab what? I have grabbed and grabbed and grabbed. I now find nothing to grab, and if I did, I would be too exhausted to grab.   I once sat and waited. I waited. I waited to see. I waited to hear and to understand. Nothing came for me to grab. But then nothing grabbed me and I could wait no more. I went out to grab, finding something to grab.   Now I grab instead of wait. And I hurt for grabbing. I grab again and the pain grows intense, intolerable. Then I remember………….no more grabbing! So I wait until I am grabbed again by the One Who already holds me and Who teaches me not to grab But to rest and to be grabbed. Lethbridge, July 20, 1984
The Chameleon
Our Lord's final stage of suffering began and His social freedom ended with a kiss of betrayal from the lips of one who followed Him for years calling Him "Master." Our journey of learning has its bitter moments, none more bitter than the times of subjection to duplicity, hypocrisy and betrayal.   Such a pleasant face! What a wonderful disposition! What do you want from me? Or is it just that you have nothing to lose? How easy it is to be pleasant And helpful and polite; How easy it is to show one self noble And virtuous, even saintly When there is something to be gained, And the one with whom you are friendly has it. Here, take what it is you are after. I am so happy to give it to such A pleasant fellow as you... As long as you'll promise me To keep your end of the bargain. I expect you'll be as congenial as you are now, When once you have what you seek from me. You tell me you are honest; You tell me you are reasonable and deserving And just and upstanding and unselfish. Fair enough! Here it is! I could not have given it to a better man.   But sir, what about your promise? What promise!? A misunderstanding?! I was mistaken? But you said..! I'm trying to get blood out of a stone you say? Unreasonable?! But it's broken! You guaranteed it worked! "As is" you say? "Buyer beware" you say? Why is your face clouded? Why are you suddenly so harsh and haughty? Where are the meekness, the gentleness, The politeness, the smiles? Where...
I See a Boy
It has been said that confidence is a plant of slow growth in an aged bosom. This can also be said of its lack. How crippling is the power of uncertainty and fear! It can reduce an otherwise mighty man to an emaciated personality fit for little more than to exist. Ironically the victim is paralyzed so effectively by his own power which makes him so weak. In this he is practically omnipotent so far as his state is concerned. Nothing can alter this condition but a fiery judgment that comes into every man's existence sooner or later and either delivers or destroys the wretched soul depending on his inclination and desire. I see a BOY. He hungers for an acknowledgment and appreciation of himself. He hungers for love - which only a good father could give - but finds none. "See, daddy? See, daddy?" he exclaims, waving his arms wildly. His Daddy ignores him. Always crestfallen, the boy is unable to cease trying to prove, to please. No matter the greatness of his efforts and accomplishments; they are not enough. His countenance tells both his effort and his frustration.   I see a SOLDIER. What an excellent soldier he is! What a fine sword he possesses! All his armament, his physique and his skills are to be both admired and feared by friend and foe alike. But what will he do in the Firestorm that approaches, nay, that is even here? As the father, it recognizes no sword; it laughs at physique and scoffs at skill and experience.   I see a PRI...
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