The Light Beyond the Window

I came up with this one during my many recent visits to doctor’s waiting rooms.

The Light Beyond the Window

The light beyond the window shines
Into this murky room
Sparing me the horror
Of life in utter gloom

It dances on the floorboards
And sparkles on the tiles
Lifting me onto my feet
To go that extra mile

Without it I could never see
The beauty on display
In flowers, trees, in birds and beasts,
In life that finds a way.

I press against the window
And shield my eyes to view
The source of this great radiance:
So pure, so bright, so true.

Defining and uplifting all
To be their greatest selves,
With courage to keep going
And eagerness to delve

Into the noblest mysteries
Of being, thought and deed;
Not shirking from the questions
Of our lives’ deepest need

For meaning, purpose, value, hope,
When all arounds seems lost;
What core thing we should cling to
When all else must be tossed

The fortitude to see it through
And keep our solemn vow
Ensnaring vanities avoid
Until we humbly bow

Before the throne of judgment
When our works show their worth,
And our heads will lift to see
New heaven and new earth.

How did I deserve to know?

Today is my wedding anniversary. Here is this year’s poem:


How did I deserve to know?

How did I deserve to know
A girl that’s so good for my soul,
With wisdom, passion, kindness, love
That I am so unworthy of?

It’s such a joy to wipe your tears,
Discuss your thoughts, your hopes, your fears,
For these eventful, treasured years
That we have been as one.

So with His strength and with His heart
Until it’s our time to depart
We reinforce these bonds of love
That fit us better than a glove,

To face the world and all its whims,
To cleanse our hearts of all their sins
And teach our children to become
Strong enough to overcome

The storms that surely will one day
Sweep across their narrow way
To purify them to their core
As they prepare for evermore.

A Young Man’s Soul


A Young Man’s Soul

When unseen forces press upon a young man’s soul to find his place
In something so much grander than his daily wants and woes,
What foolish quests and sophistries will the world place in his way,
And how can we direct him to a far more worthy goal?

With stories and examples that inflame his spirit’s noblest fires
Of faithfulness and prudence, vitality and craft,
Courage and discernment, love that wades through mire,
Of fortitude in service with purity of heart

To the One who loves us more than we can ever know
Who invites our souls to soar above the vile flow
Of sewage that this world pretends is culture, virtue, truth;
But really serves the foulest ends and drains away their youth.

He heals our deepest scars of shame and cleanses us of sin
Burns off our dross, shares in our pain, and asks to be let in
That we may tread the narrow way and scale the holy hill;
To bask in bright refreshing day and find our rest until

We’re called to fight beside Him and destroy the Devil’s hordes
Renew what does delight Him and find our great reward,
That all might see true justice done, infused with mercy grand;
The cruellest tyrants are cast down, the humble asked to stand

And look upon the One who gave himself for one and all
Hung upon a brutal cross and given bitter gall
That we might know the joy that He gave up for our own sake
And share in the great glory that was His alone to take.

He knows us, yet still fills these jars of clay with treasure lavishly
And has prepared above the stars a place in His great family.
Where all our virtues are perfected, our flaws are washed away,
All is seen with new perspective, and we are here to stay.

You Really Are Too Good to Us

This year’s bithday poem for my wife:

You Really Are Too Good to Us

 

You really are too good to us,
So we have to thank you thus
(Plus of course in other ways,
From time to time and day by day).

There’s no one in the world that we would rather know
To hold us as we cry and watch us as we grow,
To celebrate our victories, commiserate our falls,
Encourage us that next time we will surely scale that wall,

Warn us when we wander from the straight and narrow path,
Hand us holy soap when our spirit needs a bath,
Hold us to higher standards than the world around us does,
Show unexpected kindnesses, simply just because

You love to give, to understand and help us lift our heads,
Gently kiss our foreheads when we’re tucked up in our beds,
Loving mother, daughter, friend and sister to a throng
Of souls who’d surely join us in singing you a song

To celebrate all that you are, the difference that you make,
The many blessings you provide, delicious treats you bake,
The comfort and encouragement your simple presence gives
Are heaps of shining evidence that in your heart He lives.

More Than Just My Best Friend


Today is the anniversary of the first time I contacted my wife. Here is this years’ poem:

More Than Just My Best Friend

You’re more than just my best friend, the bond that we both share
Is precious as the sunrise and glorious fresh air.
You’ve joined to me for life with your most solemn guarantee
And yet I often fall far short of what my role should be:

I forget the things you treasure, and miss the warning signs
That you’re struggling to cope and I need to invest time
In listening and sharing in the burdens that you bear
And showing in my stumbling ways that I still truly care

Whatever chaos this world sends, together we’ll push through,
I’ll look for little ways to demonstrate I still love you
The many things we can’t control that tempt our hearts to quail
With His strength we’ll overcome, His purpose never fails.

Though sometimes we won’t understand, we know that we can trust
That He will work things for our good, He’s merciful and just.
So as we talk and pray and live together each new day
We ask for wisdom that we need to walk the narrow way.

The Witness of the Walls


A thousand years of history, ingrained in walls of panelled wood:
A just king’s wise pronouncements, a tyrant’s fickle moods,
Power lawlessly unleash against today’s appointed foe,
Or turn the wheels of justice that grind sure but very slow?

Kick a problem down the road for someone else to solve,
Or build an institution with clear eyes and firm resolve?
To lash out at an insult in rage at wounded pride,
Or keep your head and keep the chance to win hearts to your side?

Each day every one of us can be wise or a fool,
To build up, guard or tear down the little patch we rule,
For each of us has influence, though it may not seem like much;
We all have no idea how many souls we touch.

The ripples that our acts send out can grow to mighty waves
That bring a kingdom crashing down or hordes of lost souls save,
So guard your heart and watch your tongue, act with strength and grace,
Until that day when all is done and we will see His face.

A Call Upon the Spirit

As the new year approaches, I am posting my entry to this year’s contest of the Society of Classical Poets, on their chosen themes of an open letter to the Library of Congress to restore the recognition of rhymed verse, warning against the dangers of socialism and defending the importance of beauty in art. A Call Upon the Spirit

There’s a call upon the spirit
Of the people of this land,
Each time their freedom’s threatened,
To lift their heads and stand

To fight against the tyrant,
And bring his hubris low;
To show we will not follow
Down the path he wants to go.

The siren song of envy,
That socialists employ,
Lures weak minds down the path of death
And robs the world of joy.

Sculpted, metered, rhyming verse
Is looked at with a sneer;
Higher thoughts and beauty
Are made to disappear.

Pure filth is praised as artistry,
Pure lies as brave and good,
‘Til every conscience has shut down
And every heart craves blood.

They long to lunge in lockstep
To skewer noble hearts;
Their violence always ‘justified’
Because it’s just the start

Of a new utopia
That never quite arrives;
So carry on the slaughter,
Who knows? You might survive.

Dehumanizing spitefulness
Takes its taxing toll;
People are God’s handiwork,
Not worthless lumps of coal

For feeding hellish fires on earth
To get your petty way;
Don’t gloat about such victories,
For soon will come the day

When the truth is known and all
Those plans have come to naught,
There won’t be any refunds
For the people that you bought.

Higher ways are open
To all those with eyes to see;
A glimpse of heaven has the power
To set your spirit free

To echo heroes from the past,
From their examples learn;
The greatest future you can make
Is one that you have earned;

To dig down to the bedrock
Of age-old, solid truth,
With which we can inspire all
The flower of our youth,

That they might stand amidst the storm,
Protect the weak and frail;
See through the lies of bullies,
Recover when they fail,

Regain their feet when worlds collapse,
Rebuild a nation strong,
Withstand temptations to conform
To simply get along.

Restore the place of worthy verse
With cadence and with rhyme;
Inspiring common man to be
A hero for all time.

No convoluted bitter fog
To cause the young dismay,
But clear and hopeful, noble light
To help you find your way.

Instead of sordid clumps of woes,
A city on a hill
With towers tall and solid walls
And bright lights burning still.

Inviting all and sundry
To be all that they can be,
And emulate the gentlefolk
Who faced their destiny

With open eyes and hearts aflame,
Bruised and yet unbowed;
Despite their fears down through the years
They did declare aloud,

“The lessons of our history
Will no more be ignored;
The shrieks of mobs and demagogues
Will not undo the law.

Rise up in love and brotherhood
To face the shameless foe
Who advocates for squalor
And loves to pigeonhole

Each man into a rabid tribe
To which he must conform,
Reciting every shibboleth
And joining every swarm

Of violence and hatred of
Today’s appointed prey
For having the audacity
To think and hope and pray.

Beauty, faith and reason
Will guide us on our way
Towards the new horizon
Of bright eternal day.