Two Girls on a Bench

Two Girls on a Bench

The leaves are crashing down and up again
while sunlight beats the burnished grass’s blades.
Two girls adventure, smiling now and then,
while crunching streams of fallen leaves. They would
be free to pause in summer’s soft embrace,
but bitter cold will soon descend un-stalled.
The warmth of time won’t stay within a place –
the gentle day will soon be dead and mauled.
Right now, the girls enjoy their laughing fun,
delaying time’s progressing, ticking tock
by lying backs against a bench. Then one
careening leaf invades their eyes with shock.
The day is lost. It raced away obscene.
In lieu of slow respite, it passed routine.

Writing poetry is like playing a game. Each word is a puzzle piece that must be discovered. Do you like to deconstruct the poetic puzzle? Or would you rather read for the words alone?

If you’re looking to read great poetry, take a look at the Psalms!

“Lord, you alone are my portion and my cup;
    you make my lot secure.
 The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
    surely I have a delightful inheritance.
 I will praise the Lord, who counsels me;
    even at night my heart instructs me.
 I keep my eyes always on the Lord.
    With him at my right hand, I will not be shaken.

 “Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices;
    my body also will rest secure,
 because you will not abandon me to the realm of the dead,

    nor will you let your faithful one see decay.
You make known to me the path of life;
    you will fill me with joy in your presence,
    with eternal pleasures at your right hand.”

Psalm 16:5-11

Cozy fall evenings are a great time to read! Even if poetry isn’t your thing, grab a cup of tea and your favorite book and savor a few moments. 🙂


The Music of God’s Soul

“Music gives wings to the mind and flight to the imagination.” 

Everyone loves music. Some people love classical, some people love rock, some people love country… some people love Hawaiian luau! The great thing about music is that there are as many sounds out there as there are people.

But music plays deeper than surface-level sounds. The music of the soul plays the deepest meanings of life. French Enlightenment writer François-Marie Arouet, otherwise known as Voltaire, once said,

“Poetry is the music of the soul.” 

Does poetry really matter? Isn’t it just a bunch of lovey-dubby stuff smashed up with the dictionary? There is a lot of awful poetry. But I want to share a poem that is, as Voltaire put it, “the music of the soul.”

It was written by an Anglican priest in the early 17th century. He was pastor of a small country parish in England. His name was George Herbert. The poem is entitled, “The Altar.”

A broken ALTAR, Lord, thy servant rears,
Made of a heart and cemented with tears;
Whose parts are as thy hand did frame;
 No workman’s tool hath touch’d the same.
A HEART alone
Is such a stone,
As nothing but
Thy pow’r doth cut.
Wherefore each part
Of my hard heart
Meets in this frame
To praise thy name.
That if I chance to hold my peace,
These stones to praise thee may not cease.
Oh, let thy blessed SACRIFICE be mine,
And sanctify this ALTAR to be thine.

Notice anything interesting about this poem? Maybe like the fact that it is written in the shape of the altar in the Anglican church? This poem is what’s known as a Pattern Poem, which just means it’s shaped like its subject.

Ok, now that you know that little tidbit, go back and read it again. Poetry is not meant to be understood the first time it’s read. Did you read it again? I’m not going to explain what I think it means, it’s a lot more fun if you play it!

What does this have to do with the music of God’s soul?

“For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.”  Ephesians 2:8-10

Guess what?! The Greek word “workmanship” in verse 10 is “poiéma.” Poiéma is the Greek root word of the English word “poem.” That’s right, we are God’s poems. We are the music of God’s soul. I think that means that we matter. And that poetry matters.

Go out today and be the music of God’s soul to the people around you!



People stagger with hearts of casualties.
We try to keep silent, but must wail
For life and breath from Divinity.

We need resuscitation in Divinity,
To obtain resurrection from casualties.
Revival alone can hush our death wail.

We try to deny it, but our hearts wail,
To return to being we need Divinity.
Without it, we will ever be casualties.

Casualties who wail for Divinity.

web edited

Our Base

Since we’re forever strained and long distressed,
We need repose and stillness for ourselves.
We never take a moment for our rest,
But people need to sink and lose themselves.
We have no breaks in life and are undone –
We can’t relent beyond the slightest breath.
To rouse us from our ways we need the One,
Or we will live on in a breathing death.
The God of all discerns us in our dust
And offers His relief as our support.
We’re saved to sink within the Lord and trust.
In Jesus we will never come up short
Because he wraps his love above our will:
God is a base that holds us peaceful, still.
FEB IMG_7072 copy

People Live Their Lives

People live their lives,
People live and try to love,
People live, but aren’t alive,
People live their lives.

People live forever to heave,
People live giving all to strive,
People live never to achieve,
People live their lives.

People live needing to survive,
People live surviving to revive,
People live reviving to thrive,
People live their lives.

People live, their hearts unstaved.
People live, their spirits enslaved.
People live, their souls unsaved.
People live their lives.

People die unknowingly depraved.
People die and can’t believe.
People die, though He gave.
People live their lives.