louis gander, 25 january 2013
There is nothing more fine on a warm summer day
than lying in grasses of clover and hay,
where breezes make music through all of the leaves,
and birds do their singing among all the trees.
A butterfly zig-zagged here hither and yon
busily flapping as I had looked on.
I raised my eyes up at the vastness of space
and wondered what God thought of His human race.
Soaking up comfort in all that I saw,
lying there silent, in skeptical awe -
pouring His beauty in nature below,
oh, how did God start it so long, long ago?
He continues to bless us year after year -
and why does He love us? It isn't too clear.
Now God did create us - all different kinds,
so what does He look for in all of our minds?
My horse wandered over and nuzzeled my head.
He wanted me up in the saddle instead.
I sat on his back, took a minute or two -
and pondered the question, pondered a clue.
As I kicked his haunches I knew as I grinned
that he would obey as I leaned to the wind.
He faithfully galloped with all of his might -
the answer revealed as I rode out of sight.
©2009 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
-------
Joe Breunig, 24 january 2013
Spiked to pair of wooden, interlocking beams,
He hung bleeding, after being severely whipped.
There Christ experienced for the first time,
what it really meant to be like us -
bruised, dirty and covered by a legacy of sin
that clamors for our eventual death.
On that fateful day of His crucifixion,
our Lord felt the agony of separation,
as Jehovah turned His back towards earth,
being unable to gaze lovingly at The Son.
In Christ’s final hours of suffering,
God’s presence had departed from Him;
He was subjected to physical pain,
the shame from emotional wounds of rejection,
the ridicule concerning His destiny
and divine, heavenly authority.
Today He wears the disfiguring reminders,
permanently in His holy and glorified body,
while His eyes drip with tears of forgiveness;
it’s an unending testament of His Love for us,
having been… forever scarred.
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
Rom 6:23; Isa 53:5; Matt 27:27-56; Mark 15:21-38;
Luke 23:26-49; John 19:16-37
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2012, All rights reserved.
Joe Breunig, 24 january 2013
There’s an uneasy emptiness…
which has been experienced by all of us;
it’s an inner void, that hungers,
that pushes us towards a spiritual search.
Our physical eyes tend to glaze over,
from not knowing: what is really needed.
Yet, we strain to see something tangible,
but may be unable to fully articulate
the unknown yearning that nudges
our restless, agitated spirits.
Seekers of hidden, sacred signs
face troublesome frustrations
of niggling and nagging doubts
from failed, divine connections.
To emerge from an encompassing darkness,
one is still required to move…
towards the ethereal, eternal Light.
With boldness, Christ announced…
that He is the Way, Truth, Life and Light.
Today His Love continues to reach out,
in an enduring, unending summons
for all of the remaining… lost souls.
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
John 14:6, 1:6-13, 9:1-11, 12:44-50; Prov 4:23;
Psa 23; Matt 11:28-29
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2012, All rights reserved.
Karen Degnan Foiles, 24 january 2013
I turn the glass over and watch the sands fall
Creating a mound of memories to recall
I reflect to cherish, the days of my youth
Watching them slip by, not much I can do
But awake to a new day, that too will pass
I will pick up that glass and with no abash
I empty the grains of days gone by
Empty the time, and fool myself “why”?
Who wants to see that you’re getting older
Just let it come by and you’ll feel bolder
I’m not leaving without a fight
I’m stubborn and full of strife
I like how I feel and don’t want a reminder
Just how fast time slips by
So I will run in the that sand
And then kick my heals up high
Take “that” sand, take “that” time
Karen Degnan Foiles, 24 january 2013
My love for you is endless
I say this with all my heart
Please be my valentine
For we will never part
Karen Degnan Foiles, 24 january 2013
I lost the person that I once knew
She took a different path to pursue
A path that I had to go through
And paid my past life adieu
I used to like my crafts
To see what I can create
Now I only do for others
So 'they' can appreciate
I used to be outgoing
I liked to make new friends
Now I'm timid and boring
Now I sit back and blend
I used to love to sing
It was my favorite thing
It made me feel that I could heal
The pain that I felt inside
Now it's not a treasure
That I can take pleasure
It reminds me of who I was
And who I do not want to be
I'm told I must heal myself
When all my life I felt pain
I tried so hard to keep it shelved
Protecting myself from blame
I was always very sensitive
To harsh words or a loud yell
They cut so very deep within
Bid my self-esteem farewell
Now I try to see
Just where it all comes from
Not take it so personally
They had also succumb
Who am I, this person I've become
The old me has disappeared
As the new has persevered
I'm someone who's no longer numb
Karen Degnan Foiles, 24 january 2013
When I'm troubled, down and weak
Your loving touch is what I seek
You're always there to touch my cheek
Even when your world was bleek
You were there for me to hold me tight
Or were you just being polite?
When I felt your feelings were slight
I can't help wonder if you're alright
Behind your loving eyes, smile and praise
What did you really mean to say?
The rash of words, too hurtful to say
We now look back on that painful day
Sometimes signals can be mistaken
When someone's trust has been shaken
We now cry our feeling awakened
When our feelings had been forsaken
Karen Degnan Foiles, 24 january 2013
Chirp, chirp, chirp
I can hear the birds sing
Chirp, chirp, chirp
Oh the joy that sound brings
Chirp, chirp, chirp
They fly so carelessly
Chirp, chirp, chirp
Looking for something to eat
Chirp, chirp, chirp
It's like a baby's laugh
Chirp, chirp, chirp
That's splashing in a bubble bath
Chirp, chirp, chirp
They sing a pretty tune
Chirp, chirp, chirp
They also clear out the doom
Geetima Baruah Sarma, 24 january 2013
Kopili Kopili rangdhali suwali...
Lovely verses flowed through his pen
When he stayed in an inspection bungalow
Thirty three years back on July ten.
His artistic insight captured the beauty
Of meandering Kopili gushing down the hills,
Her changing moods, her fascinating youth,
Immortal lyrics composed with finest skills.
His inspiring rendition enthralled Umrongso,
Each and everyone that loved his golden voice,
With a heavy heart Kopili today pays her tribute
And she shall ever cherish the song and rejoice.
[Published in 'melange', the Sunday supplement of 'The Sentinel' on 13 November 2011]
Short note: On 10th July 1978, Dr Bhupen Hazarika came to Umrongso in Assam for a performance and during his stay in the NEEPCO I.B. of Kopili Hydro Electric Project, he composed the lyrics of the Assamese song ‘Kopili Kopili Rangdhali Suwali’. The river Kopili is a tributary of the mighty river Brahmaputra but through the artistic eyes of the legend, the enchanting river has been personified as a lively girl whose mood changes as the monsoon arrives. She remains restless but her beauty lies in her fascinating youth and she appears bright having the shine of numerous suns. Dr Hazarika’s song has inspired all and this piece is a tribute to his immortal contribution. I, on behalf of the people of Kopili Project in Umrongso, pray to God for the eternal peace of the noble soul.
ASIIMWE SIMON, 24 january 2013
Who knew the little bird would grow wings
And fly over the legendary kings
Now the flying bird in the air swings
His sparkling coloured wings.
Who knew the little bird would learn to sing
Songs of beautiful tunes and rhymes
His had been lamenting ballads
Cursing Maryland plantations
But see how the singing bird sings
Of books, suits and wines.
Who knew the little bird would learn to feel
The sickness, tiredness and coldness
His had been cracking the rocks
With unquestionable willingness.
And who knew the little bird would fear not to perch
Upon every tall tree tops after long search
For which it’s little nest would beautifully hang
It, had been in the dark quiet cave
But see how its young ones come singing
From New York trimmed vegetation.
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