One Tree on a Hill

One tree on the hill standing strong, standing tall
Through summer and winter, spring and fall —
This aged tree has stood the test for the best —
And what has she seen through fat years and lean?
So many foibles of humanity born of pure insanity,
But also beauty, bravery and much love from above,
For battles have been fought, victories blood bought,
And in peace lovers have promised passion, as well,
Neath her mighty branches, sounding wedding bells,
And so this majestic tree has seen heaven and hell;
Now what would she tell us if she could but speak?
This tree on the hill standing strong, standing tall?


Shield on the Battlefield

Raise up the blood-soaked shield of faith on the battlefield,
And do not yield to the enemy, for your destiny is sealed
By the God of heaven and earth, in whom you have trusted,
To whom the surety of victory belongs for which you long,
And this has become your battle song sung long and strong;
He is your Beloved, in whom you live and have your being,
Seeing all from small to grand and tall, every inch of ground,
Hearing every sound, even the pounding of your very heart;
And your Beloved has given you the better part of his own,
Even as he has sown seeds of love, joy, and peace . . .
Look to his banner and fight on in the light of his bright face!

Fog of War ~ Cry for Help

It is the fog of war and I cannot see clearly as I am nearly blind,
And so I bind me to you, my Beloved, clinging to you kind hand,
And you tie your band around my waist lest I here waste away
In this foreign land with battle trenches dug deep into the earth
From which every soldier must show his worth even in dying,
Crying for mercy and peace and I, too, beg the warfare to cease;
Oh, my Beloved, give me new lease on life and let all strife end!

Here is my heart and all of me, too, to do with as you might will;
Take and seal me for eternity in fraternity with you forevermore,
But bring relief now as well as the bell chimes out this late hour,
And show your power to heal, and to fill me with your great love
Above the cacophony of this world into which I’ve been hurled!
And write my own name on your palm and calm all of my fears
Which lurk ever near to my very soul and so wholly fill this hole!

And grant me sweet serenity even now . . .
Oh, grant us serenity even now, my Beloved

Battlefield Heart

Where have all the birds gone with their morning song?
Why are the days so long and the winds cold and strong?
And why does my spirit belong to the night with blight?

Rise up, O heart, and take your part in the battle fought!
This war has been brought to your own doorstep so fight
With all of your might even with no termination in sight!

Struggle with determination to victory over damnation,
And surely your Beloved will come to you in battle array
To lead your soul to bright light and the victor’s crown!

Come with the dawn, mighty Warrior
Into the foyer of my heart with sword
And reprimand this sickly, thick dark
By your powerful Word of command!

And my Beloved shall bring to me again the morning song,
And fill my days with love from above, so warm and strong,
And in my spirit there shall be no more night with blight. . .

The Project

Millions pray, millions cry, many even die
All for wars to cease and for peace to reign,
And the truth is most people do get along
Just as fine as well-aged wine and would
Gladly dine with one another in harmony;
So who is it that incites violence and war?
Who first tore the delicate fabric of peace?
We need a new lease on life in this world,
And this is the daunting project haunting
And taunting those of us who love to love
And live in serenity with all of humanity;
Ah! But this is quite a feat even as we hear
The drumbeat of the battles to be fought
By those who have been sold and bought
And brought into the service of those who
Will never see the field soaked with blood;
Most of those who have seen the horror
Of war want war no more for they know
How high the price to pay
And will not roll the dice!
Oh, but somebody does . . . who are they?
And how do they hold at bay peace
In our day; how do they block the way?
Ah! How do we go about this, our Project?

Safe Within Your Love

So close, your whisper-soft of mystic sweet communion;
Your breath-hold, and I am love, secure in your womb,
Feeling your heartbeat rhythm, safe in your cocoon,
Inside from the world where we abide till eve’n tide.

Not restless from restlessness of the unsealed tombs
Of evil rising, riding, haunting to seal our doom.
Near in fear, upon the horizon does your light loom,
Piercing the burden-night, the plight, every ill-sight.

So at last when clouds so dark roll away,
Smoke clears in the break of your day;
When finally is gone the smog of despair,
Vapors of confusion dissolved in your air;
Then will I see with the eyes of my heart
That my pain and tears were but one part ~
Part of one battle, one skirmish fought
In an already won war, victory love bought.

Now, then, I breathe in life, breathe out all dying,
Inhale beautiful wisdom, and exhale all of the lying.
So, too, in-breathe your day, out-breathe his night,
Wrap myself in your arms, and dance in your light!

Note: First published in June 2015, now republished for the reading pleasure of new followers. Blessings to one and all!

Relief: The Lunatic’s Rave

Indeed, have ten thousand fallen down all around,
While I myself lie prostrate on blood-soaked ground;
One misstep following another, I fell without sound;
Darkness draws near ~ pain and suffering abound.

And, lo, does the deadly pestilence stalk at night,
And terror in the darkness that no man can fight!
Behold, the pale horseman with his quiver of plight,
Arrows striking the very sun to blacken all light!

Listen! Here is a mournful sound without harmony
Rising from unknown tombs in earth and sea!
Dead souls given voice in the council of eternity,
To clamour for justice denied heartless cruelty!

And now is this high refuge become my low grave?
And hope no longer lives there is Someone to save?
Must I, too, await relief but in death’s cold wave
When finally does Mercy silence the lunatic rave?

Note: Originally published sometime in the summer of 2012 and can also be found on the Slightly Poetic Slice of My Life  page

Battle: Once More

Your chest is tight, full of fright
But you fight cause you know you’re right,
But then the light grows dim
And life seems grim and dreary,
And you grow so weary of the fight;
You take flight into the night…
And there it is, the draught of poison
To take that will make everything better,
Even though you’ve been taught not to sip
Or even let it touch your lips,
But you’re caught between pain and confusion
And the illusion of sleep that will keep
You in peace or at least give you rest
Even if it is in the arms of the beast,
So you lose all might, forget what is right,
Move to the goblet in sight, and you drink…
Blight fills your soul,
Your face turns ashen white,
And you hit the floor to fight no more…
At least until you wake again to take sword
In hand once more to face the same battle as before,
Once more

Savior Save

Lies that fly by night and the plagues that stalks by day
Has overwhelmed and consumed my way…
The plight that takes flight at noon has too soon struck
Down my spirit as I inherit the wind…
Deadly pestilence that creeps in morning with no warning
Has filled the hole in my very soul…
And am I undone now with none to save as the thousands
Heed the call to bring my battle fall?
Even my very children have turned their backs for lack
Of love as they cover their own shame;
And who’s to blame that the enemy came to man so lame?
My strength has dissipated into the air…
And is this fair that no one seems to care to help bear
My cursed burden that brings me low below?

Savior Save

Cacophony: An Unfinished Requiem

Hallowed mists of time part, fade, swallowed by revelation;
Every day another battle; another battle fought every day,
And the price to pay for survival is ever-constant revival
Of steel heart, bronze shield of soul, with sword on field
Of an ongoing war with store of untold memories enfolded
In cold-earth graves of fool and knaves and heroes brave.

Onto what can we hold to make us bold, except the unseen Other,
Up under which we take cover — Power of Life, and Tower of Truth.

Shofar sounds, drum beats profound, each warrior crowned
With thin, broken helmet from unspoken conflicts forgotten
By rotten memory of humanity; cacophony and insanity reign,
Earth shakes, mountains quake at marching feet of unbeaten
And unseen foe, ready to strike deadly blows, so blood flows
Oh-so freely, slowly seeping into Gaia, mother earth weeping.

Onto what can we hold to make us bold, except the unseen Other,
Up under which we take cover — Power of Life, and Tower of Truth.

Every day … every day … every day …