Your Sweet Soul

Here is this year’s birthday poem for my wife.
Your Sweet Soul

No words can suitably express
The gift you are to all of us;
No way to count the ways unless
We leave too many out, and thus

This minor gesture of our love
And gratitude for all you are,
Your kindness we’re unworthy of,
Your fun and varied repertoire,

Your generosity of heart,
Your skills at every kind of art,
Your patience with our petty woes,
You’re a channel where His mercy flows.

So on this commemoration
Of your worthy life’s foundation,
We hope to show you all the love that your sweet soul is due

Please let us warm your heart,
As we all play our part
To demonstrate this day that we’re so glad to all know you.

Advertisements

Eighteen Years Ago

Today is the anniversary of the first time I contacted my wife. My first email was sent on the first of May, and she read it on the second, so at the end of every first of May I email her a poem to be opened on the second. Here is this year’s effort:

Eighteen Years Ago

Eighteen years ago, I sat and struggled to decide
If sending a strange girl a note would start a downward slide,
Or if that step outside my comfort zone,
Into the digital unknown,
Would join me with a gentle soul in whom I could confide.

I trembled at the thought of reaching out and getting burned,
Now looking back I can see the many things I’ve learned:

I’ve learned how to communicate and how to bare my soul,
How to look at my old wounds in ways that make me whole,
How to trust and compromise, how to build a home,
Taking charge of more than just the simple things I own,

Loving you for who you are, not who I hope you’ll be,
While journeying together towards full maturity.
Your imperfections are a joy, as is your sense of fun,
Your warmth and vulnerability are how my heart was won.

So take my hand, let’s venture on into the great unknown,
Following the one who sits upon His rightful throne.
We’ll fall and fail and miss the mark, and let each other down,
Yet He will help us back on track towards our promised crowns.

Armed with grace and mercy, we will overcome the foe,
Who behind his rage and lies knows he can’t overthrow
The Holy One of Israel, the King above all kings,
Who offers us a glory far outweighing troubling things

That we witness in the world, that tempt us to lose hope,
When all we see each day is just the next few feet of slope.
His greatness dwarfs all that we face, His power is supreme;
Hope in him is surer than the mightiest regime.

I’ll hold your hand and comfort you when the days seem bleak,
When illness strikes, or time’s harsh wheels make our arms grow weak.
I said “I do”, I meant it, and I’ll never take it back;
Together we will shine His light to souls lost in the black.

Such As These

Trudging through a wintry plain
As toes begin to freeze;
Kind eyes look down from heaven
To watch over such as these.

Disfigured outcasts stumble on,
All ravaged with disease;
Holy hands don’t fear to touch
And make whole such as these.

Abandoned by their former friends,
Despite their desperate pleas;
A well-lined back in heaven knows
The pain of such as these.

Souls wracked with guilt that won’t wash out
And wearying unease;
Scarred hands and feet in heaven show
He died for such as these.

Slandered, beaten for His sake
And forced onto their knees;
A special place in heaven
Is prepared for such as these.

Their race full run, their strength all spent,
Their breath a painful wheeze;
Arms in heaven are stretched out
To welcome such as these.

A loving smile, a sick friend healed,
A fragrant summer breeze;
Foretastes of His heaven are found
In moments such as these.

A child’s unflinching openness,
Trustful and keen to please,
The kingdom of our God must be
Approached as such as these.