The Gift of Pain

With opened eyes, I wake to know
The fallen snow and evergreen
of Christmas tree, on blessed morn
when He was born, and God was seen

So many gifts, none too immense
of frankincense, or gold or myrrh
What is this gift, I see beneath
the holly wreath? I can't be sure

A box with ribbons they adorn
In biting thorn, to give the child
I loose my seat, and bar the way
My hand to stay, and fury wild

But they respond, with patient calm
There is no balm for cancer's cure
If chemotherapy be right
A painful fight, he must endure

So many nights, I watched him die
To curse the sky at Him, insane
I, bitter-mouthed, would damn His choice
With heart and voice, the gift of pain

But still the Christmas snow would fall
And through it all, my son believed
He praised the Lord, I knew not why
I watched him die, and only grieved

But with last breath, as if a hiss
He whispered this; "Christ is the Lord"
Then gave his life, his body still
A deadly chill, and pierce of sword

I don't recall those after days,
And through that haze I tried to lean
On comfort, with those words in mind
I tried to find what they could mean

And for the first, I read the book
With open look, I saw it show
On Calvary, the Son of God
On whom I trod, but did not know

This man who taught and sought to save
By empty grave, our faith succoured
That my son too, with final breath
Would not give death the final word

With love and pain the wine is pressed
To see us dressed for wedding day
Oh, lift our veil with kiss of grace,
wipe from our face all tears away

Auld Lang Syne

I remember flowing fields of grain,
how in the wind they waved

I remember sounds of streaking rain
on sidewalks newly paved

I remember all the hills of gold
and how the children sang

I remember all the bells of old
that in the churches rang

I remember all the winter frost
when Christmas came to all

I remember when the child was lost
and men began to fall

I remember all the arms and hands
that moved us to the fight

I remember all the foreign lands
that cursed our very sight

I remember when we told our God
"Get out of all our schools"

I remember when we took the rod
and gave it to the fools

But I remember; hope and trust
are stronger weapons still

Than all the hate and burning lust
of men who seek to kill

I know that power in the hand
is not to hold the gun

The power is with ones who stand,
And proudly stand as one

Crown of Thorn

The burning brand of mortal stigma,
neither god and neither still
the cruel hand of life’s enigma
stinging rod, I’ve had my fill.

I’ve lived despairing, and unknowing,
eyes screwed shut as men who die,
marked with death, and slowly going
through the rut and through the lie.

Taking reason, I uncertain,
push it back and draw it near
Daring treason, rend the curtain,
loose the rack, and scatter fear.

Crown of glory now supernal,
blood and foam, I bear with pain
Until the trail of life eternal
Brings me home to thee again.

The Crux

Upon the hill,
the golden thrill of sun
upon my face

I gaze above,
can there be love beyond
the earth's embrace?

The mind of eye,
as broad as sky at dawn,
I blindly bold

The black abyss
yet more than this I know
I shall behold

There, heaven's gate
much more than fate, I press
and open find

Tis very odd,
For, where is God in this
if not the mind?

Then lo, a voice
that speaks of choice and hope
and there, a ridge

Here thou shalt find,
'tween fact and mind, thy faith
shall act as bridge

And here I faint
For I, no saint, feel fear
that I shall fall

Is life a plan,
or work of man to make
and conquer all?

There, long I dwell
much worse than hell and darkness
where we sleep

But then I choose
to live or lose. I bend,
and boldly leap.

Love's Allegiance

The Modern Myths
All, the same flavor they will have
and say to the reader much on God and angels
but each, a spirit speaks to them, and not of Christ
who, if we find a mention
on but one page, they think it overmuch
and say of him "great teacher"
and "divine exemplar"
all of which serve only to dismiss true divinity
and meaning of the cross
and state with ultimate finality:
Here is but a man, and not God made flesh
and we, with but knowledge gleaned
from these spirits, ever wise
are as great as he, or greater
No, I come not with peace, but a sword
to set at odds son against father, and daughter against mother
Who shall love me, but the unrighteous?
Oh, my father,
though I may not swear by heaven
or by earth
or by even hairs upon my head
with what ferver I may make
I would love you
If the earth were mine, I would give to you
though in thought and deed
a thousand snares I fall into
so that my works of hand and heart
betray you

I wish to be
alike to Christ thy son
not so that in heaven I might rule
but only so
that you would know the depths of love
Not for thy power, or glory crowned supernally
in grace, and patient sacrifice
for these things, though great
I cannot love alone
but thee I love
And unto thy throne, I would come
dressed in virgin white
to be thy servant, or thy bride
both undeserved
Oh father, these things in my true heart I wish
but in my hands are sin and treachery
that overturns this love unendingly
to meet repentance yet again
and kiss the cross, to know the grace of Christ
Father, of all the powers in heaven,
the least of which against
I, less than a flea,
will never bow or glorify
I bow to thee