Sunday, March 30, 1997

poem: Easter

3/30/97
Easter Sunday

Easter

E very "god" that's ever been wants our worship and our love, but
A t the sunrise of this day, only Christ shows God above.
S unrise, daybreak, reassurance of completed sacrifice,
T riumpth over grave and Satan, this atonement shall suffice.
E arly on this happy morning, all their mourning turned around,
R isen! Alleluia! Risen! Let reconciliation sound.

Thursday, March 27, 1997

poem: Staying the Course: A Poem for Maundy Thursday

3/27/97
Maundy Thursday

Staying the Course: A Poem for Maundy Thursday
You gave us gifts that we misused, You gave us gifts, Your name to praise,
And yet we turned, misused your gifts, and grieve You so all of our days.
In You is hope and happiness, in You made, in You must be,
In You our only hope salvation, laying Your body on the tree.
In grieving You we grieve ourselves, You are our sustenance and love,
You come to us in condescension; glory to the God above!

On the night of Your betrayal, You could have left and run away,
Instead You prayed, stayed in the garden, willing that our sins be laid
On You instead of those deserving - us, the wretched and the lost,
You did the Father's will and bidding - came as man and paid the cost.
They came and took You from the garden to trial, cross, and finally grave,
You bore our sins and our transgressions, in Your love You came to save.

Love like this beyond my grasping, love this strong, and love this fierce,
Love that loves us as we're sinning, Love that shall His own hands pierce.
Love that long to reconcile, even as we turn from light,
It's never too late to re-embrace Him, turn from darkness and the night.
His cup of suffering now becomes the cup of our salvation through
Him who loves us and redeemed us - there's nothing more that's left to do!

Friday, March 14, 1997

poem: When I Can't Seek You

When I Can't Seek You
Burning, burning in the night; crying embers, dying light.
Burning passion in my soul; longing, yearning, make me whole.
Father, Spirit, through your Son, render sinless little one.
I am needful, weak with pride, unmindful of the One who died.

I don't pray and so I fear, that You in anger won't draw near:
I don't talk, I don't ask, that in Your Presence may I bask.
I don't intercede or pray, asking for a better day.
I don't act as Your child; I am yet untamed and wild.

I don't love You so I fear that You in anger won't draw near.
How can You love, how can You lead, so slowly; I am not Your speed.
How can You reach into the dark, illuminate with holy spark?
How can You love one such as me; how can You hear, how can You see?

Father, fill me, lift me up, and I shall take and drink the cup.
Sweet grapes, bitter wine, cup of suffering now is mine.
Oh to run and hide my eyes; oh to listen to the lies!
But He loves me, I must return; let His love within me burn.

Burning, burning in the night; crying embers, dying light.
Burning passion in my soul; longing, yearning, make me whole.
Father, Spirit, through your Son, render sinless little one.
I am needful, weak with pride; do not let me longer hide.