11-17-2012, 05:16 PM
For James - Not out!
A verdant bed in pleasant pastures green,
did sooth the eye and cause the mind to dream.
A heart so contentedly encumbered,
soon slips to sloth and slumber.
Both ear and eye closed, none fearing,
no longer heed to seeing, hearing.
The fruit of this most verdant bed,
Costly cedar beams, in place instead
of perishable pine… now consigned,
to be fragrant firs in the rafters aligned.
A forest of fruitful apple trees - each yielding.
Yet in truth… Mammon his dagger was wielding.
Through an’ through the dagger finds its mark.
His goal to oust the rightful keeper of the heart,
He’ll take the worship and gain the throne,
Given – taken, that which belongs to God alone.
The net is cast. The snare is set.
For thirty pieces the terms are met.
The clouds that gathered in the morn,
Were nothing compared to the final storm.
Thus dulled and weakened. Half asleep.
I heard a thunderous beat; locusts - eating as they leap
Came the sliding serpent and at a trot, a little fox,
triumphant they took the contract from the box.
Then gathered the beasts at the goodly feast,
Growling ‘ere they went, “The last get least!”
For eighteen months the fire storm raged,
whilst dust to dust our dreams were laid.
Consuming all this ravening hoard,
Commanded the captain to walk the board.
They seized the helm. Ditched the cargo,
and broke the mast as a trade embargo.
When all was lost; she breathed her last.
Then to the sharks the crew were cast.
Gathering pirates came to acquire; to pick
over the bones that the beasts had licked.
Thus on the shores of hope forlorn
I awoke, surveyed and much did mourn;
What could have been, should have been.
The treasures seen, the crumbling dreams.
Of pleasant things once counted best,
Consumed by fire in a cedar chest.
The sound of my lament rose higher,
Fuelled by anger. Burning like fire.
“What now of those who need to sup,
Beneath this roof, take from our cup?”
“No more to draw from this great store...
their need is great – alas we have no more!”
Over this clamour, subduing the tantrum,
A song of praise, a shining lantern.
Rising from the mouldering dust,
the truth, the cost of my great lust.
Misplaced trust and worship; uncovered.
A heart unfettered, love re-discovered.
Then fixed my heart on heavenly wealth
Eyes, ears renewed, sharp with health.
My thoughts rise up from the funeral pyre
Beyond the skies, higher and higher.
Till resting on the highest throne
give praise to God and him alone.
Within the warehouse of heavenly stores,
Abundant provision, always more!
No arm of flesh nor feeble frame,
Should ere be trusted with glory or fame.
Only one there is who could hold that cup
Beloved face, unto whom my gaze is lifted up.
Long will I gaze with lingering looks
And bless the name that gave and took.
‘twas always his and never mine.
A gift of grace, loaned for a short time.
A blessing. Here today then gone tomorrow;
Yet praise will fill this heart - not sorrow.
A verdant bed in pleasant pastures green,
did sooth the eye and cause the mind to dream.
A heart so contentedly encumbered,
soon slips to sloth and slumber.
Both ear and eye closed, none fearing,
no longer heed to seeing, hearing.
The fruit of this most verdant bed,
Costly cedar beams, in place instead
of perishable pine… now consigned,
to be fragrant firs in the rafters aligned.
A forest of fruitful apple trees - each yielding.
Yet in truth… Mammon his dagger was wielding.
Through an’ through the dagger finds its mark.
His goal to oust the rightful keeper of the heart,
He’ll take the worship and gain the throne,
Given – taken, that which belongs to God alone.
The net is cast. The snare is set.
For thirty pieces the terms are met.
The clouds that gathered in the morn,
Were nothing compared to the final storm.
Thus dulled and weakened. Half asleep.
I heard a thunderous beat; locusts - eating as they leap
Came the sliding serpent and at a trot, a little fox,
triumphant they took the contract from the box.
Then gathered the beasts at the goodly feast,
Growling ‘ere they went, “The last get least!”
For eighteen months the fire storm raged,
whilst dust to dust our dreams were laid.
Consuming all this ravening hoard,
Commanded the captain to walk the board.
They seized the helm. Ditched the cargo,
and broke the mast as a trade embargo.
When all was lost; she breathed her last.
Then to the sharks the crew were cast.
Gathering pirates came to acquire; to pick
over the bones that the beasts had licked.
Thus on the shores of hope forlorn
I awoke, surveyed and much did mourn;
What could have been, should have been.
The treasures seen, the crumbling dreams.
Of pleasant things once counted best,
Consumed by fire in a cedar chest.
The sound of my lament rose higher,
Fuelled by anger. Burning like fire.
“What now of those who need to sup,
Beneath this roof, take from our cup?”
“No more to draw from this great store...
their need is great – alas we have no more!”
Over this clamour, subduing the tantrum,
A song of praise, a shining lantern.
Rising from the mouldering dust,
the truth, the cost of my great lust.
Misplaced trust and worship; uncovered.
A heart unfettered, love re-discovered.
Then fixed my heart on heavenly wealth
Eyes, ears renewed, sharp with health.
My thoughts rise up from the funeral pyre
Beyond the skies, higher and higher.
Till resting on the highest throne
give praise to God and him alone.
Within the warehouse of heavenly stores,
Abundant provision, always more!
No arm of flesh nor feeble frame,
Should ere be trusted with glory or fame.
Only one there is who could hold that cup
Beloved face, unto whom my gaze is lifted up.
Long will I gaze with lingering looks
And bless the name that gave and took.
‘twas always his and never mine.
A gift of grace, loaned for a short time.
A blessing. Here today then gone tomorrow;
Yet praise will fill this heart - not sorrow.