Aug 23, 2009

Poetry

True Love
Copyright © 2007 by Philip Damon

This struggle I face makes me want give up and weep,
My lover is gone, my friend lost to the blue deep.

My heart once so light now burns for the past,
Wondering how I will go on, how long will I last?

In my deepest despair, my soul cries out aloud,
“Who will hear me? Who will hold me and call me their child?”

As my voice breaks with emptiness, nothing more to be said,
My head yearns for the soft touch of my cold, now empty bed.

Suddenly I feel a presence, a love gentle and true;
It touches my soul, a comfort bold yet not new.

I’ve felt you long past, where have you been gone?
And a voice so gentle, majestic, and in love deeply responds:

“My child I’m here. I have loved you all along.”
“I know the pain, I know the suffering, I’ve known all along!”

“I created you, loved you, and with joy mine heart oft leapt!”
“I’ve watched you, guided you, and your tears I have wept.”

“Your sins I have born, to the deep pits of Hell,”
“When my Father’s back was turned, I knew loneliness well!”

“But I have come back, victorious, embolden and strong!”
“Now no one can take you, my child, from these scarred hands and scourged arms!”

“Death has no mastery, no power, no chill!”
“It was defeated at the cross by My love and My will!”

“This world is not all, no; it is not near the end,”
“This is where life, love and laughter, so virgin, begins!”

“Now here I stand, arms empty and wide,”
“Please come to me and view this gash in my side.”

“I was tormented, vexed, my flesh pierced and sore torn”,
“But this I did for you, that you may be reborn.”

“In me life is everlasting, a peace to be worn!”
“Trust in me child, may your heart now be forever warmed!”

“I’ll never leave you nor forsake you; I have been here all along.”
And with those gentle words, he raised that scourged arm,

That flesh that was bruised, whipped and did freely bleed;
Had the gentlest hand that was pierced deeply for me.

He reached to mine eyes, and the tears he did wipe,
And I fell in to His arms, and knew I’d be alright.

For Christ’s love is deep and so very true,
I’ll never again have to be torn, but now made anew!



Crying Out
Copyright © 2008 by Philip Damon


My God, my God, I just don’t understand,
How life and death is decided by your hand.

How do you choose those who live, and those who will die?
I lift my head, and with tears that fall,
I bleed with my heart, arms upraised to the sky.

There is so much suffering, there is so much pain.
Where is your hand? These hearts that are slain!

My self, my friends, pure strangers, and all,
Creation, mountains, rivers, fall.

At the commands that come forth from your glorious power,
Rivers dry, mountains crumble,
Even the mighty whither as the flower.

I don’t see why this has to be,
I don’t understand, will you make me see?

Why are there those, with nothing to have?
Those who know the streets counting nothing as glad!

Those who are alone with no one to hold,
Would count a rare hug as more precious then gold!

We fight, we sorrow, striving for peace, so fleeting,
Yet peace and comfort never join, never meeting.

Yet through it all is your quiet, whispering love.
Your Spirit covers us, enfolds us in your encompassing glove.

This glove of your faithfulness, this glove of your peace,
You know of our burdens, and with us you weep.

You do not desire suffering, you do not desire pain.
This world is corrupt, everyone within has been slain.

By sin that engulfs us, and corrupts this wide world,
Those whom you love, would rather you would be cursed;
Those words to the skies they would be quick to hurl.

These tears I weep are not just for me,
But for the world, for my brother, for my sister, because they do not see.

That your love is eternal, all the sacrifices you have made.
What remains is to know you, that these hurts may thus fade.

I praise you and love you, and in glory you do reign!
For I know that you have a purpose, even for this sharp and ragged pain!

George Washington