Roll the Dice with Layers of Prayer

Happily taking chance and the Table of Life,

Be nice, throw the dice;

Spinning the wheel to reveal Fortune’s hand

O’er wandering band, flowing time’s sand;

Never stopping, always hopping,

Hoping against all hope, stroking sensitive ego,

Refusing to let go, roll the dice one more time,

But this time pray the Lord save the day

Rescue from dismay, this life made of clay;

Amen and Amen.

A Gravel Road Called Glory

An old man once told me a story

About a gravel road called glory

In an esoteric but grand oratory

So I listened to the man so hoary

He said it was a hard road to travel

Your bare feet get cut on the gravel

Yet every step is on sacred ground

But long’s the way without a sound

Why would anyone want to go?

Why would anyone even show?

This is what I wanted to know

As I looked at the falling snow

With a twinkle in his eyes he said:

‘It’s the ending where you begin again, son

It is the path where you’ve ever just begun

And, yeah, it’s certainly a life rife with pain

But each step you take is a universal gain’

So I found that road called glory

And I have just begun my story

But I’ve walked for many miles

And have had my share of trials

And so sometimes I wonder why

Why should I even bother to try

And I stoop down low and sigh

And I lay down ‘n pray and I cry

But then I remember what he said:

‘It’s the ending where you begin again, son

It is the path where you’ve ever just begun

And, yeah, it’s certainly a life rife with pain

But each step you take is a universal gain’

And it’s been a hard road to travel

My bare feet are cut by the gravel

Yet every step is on sacred ground

Along this way that’s glory bound

Because . . .

An old man once told me a story

About a gravel road called glory

About a gravel road called glory

Travel, Relax, Rebirth

Travel, relax, unravel and heal such deep wounds you should be dead

Begin again, even in pain, take the first step, and circumvent Hell’s web

Speed through countries and continents, now cognizant and confident

For this is your time to shine, soul design, goldmine of the spirit, fine wine

Stay close to the shoreline, refine your heart, make yourself the better part

Unravel and heal in eternal travel, deepest wounds fading without evading

End of the journey just the beginning, now worthy, no longer pinning

Life infused everlastingly, without vanity, changing drastically . . . for good

Sweet Sole Spirit of Life

Move so gently ore the deep in soul depth of my keep

An unilluminated world waiting for your bright light

Streaming thru opened floodgate of innate radiance

To belong wholly to you as new creation in formation

Neath your ethereal wings bringing life to lifelessness

To ever abide in your shadow as one suppliant bride

So compliant, never defiant, always reliant upon you

Sweet sole Spirit of Life

Elysium

So far away, Elysium, where day never ends and the cabernet freely flows,

Receive me in your blessed abode, leave me not alone, deceive me no more,

For I was born for your shores, sworn for your stores of golden grain evermore,

Will you take me in to begin again, new life in perfection without soul defection,

Hope everlasting, never asking for peace, for war to cease, nothing to increase,

Never alone, always shone great wonders untold, spirit so bold, lover to hold,

Now so close, Elysium, in never-ending beginning, singing with angels winging

Elysium

You Create

There is only emptiness, the great void as if all had been destroyed,
Nothing employed throughout time and space in pace with nothing;
And all is hollow, surrounded by some numinous shell that is hell…
But then you speak and the sharp peak of light appears here
To sear the darkness, and something begins to take shape
That the nothing can escape, and there is suddenly living life
Filling time and space with the chime of the divine sounding
And pounding, pulsating throughout the fresh air so free and fair;
So, too, you speak into those poor souls caught in mere existence
In persistence of lifeless churning in the void of empty moments,
Breathing the power of life where there was only death by the hour,
And then it is the flower of spirit rises from the ashes and blooms;
You create what is great as your own self-given mandate of love
From above that shoves aside the emptiness with its high pride…
You create and satiate the gnawing appetite for truly alive life…
Yes, you create … You create


 

Shelter

O shelter from the stormy blast, hold me fast;
Quick! Speedily take me neath your covering,
Hovering over me against the tempest raging
And engaging all humanity in utter calamity
With no break for mercy’s sake – we quake –
O hide me and abide with me, (do not chide)
And save me from the rage all around about
That writes itself on each page of our history;
O shelter from the stormy blast, hold me fast!

One Simple Ray of Sunshine

 

I

One simple ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds,
Proudly and soundly focusing its power upon the earth,
Making the mountains its hearth ‘n giving birth to hope;
Aye! The whole world is in the scope of this solitary ray
That pays one hundredfold the breath of its tiny breadth;
And what can compare to the might of its bright light?
None and so soon to drive out all blight and every fright;
Yea, night turns to day with but one strand of sunshine
So fine and ever so piercing the clouds of gloom ‘n doom

II

Earth revolves around Sol, greater light to rule the day
And stay the powers of stark darkness in its own ways
With rays of brightness – happy song sung long on sea
And land by bands of people and all creatures living –
And how shall we describe him or ascribe him majesty
With glory, yet Sol is but an icon, very pure and simple,
Of the first and everlasting Light that shines brighter
And dispels thick black without a lack of magnificence,
So that Sol is but a child, young ‘n wild, by comparison

The Sad Bard

This bard tries to write but the words no longer come,
Like some long-lost friend always round the next bend,
And he sends urgent messages beckoning them home
So he can pen his tome, but the fickle words elude him
To the pain of his heart since he cannot gain their love,
Though again n’ again the woeful bard cries and tries;
But there’s some poetry even in this most sad situation
Of ill-sought satisfaction: at least this bard can write
About the aesthetic evacuation of his very own soul . . .

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?