You are more radiant than the sun, my Beloved,
And I have only begun to sing of your beauty
When my voice takes wing in duty to our love
You deserve more adoration than bright roses
And the light reflected off the mountain lake
At the sight of which I but tremble and quake
You are fairer than ten thousand doves, my Love,
And from above the stars finely shine upon you
So wonderful and true — their service your due
And the moon sings in tune with all the heavens
So leavened with your presence, O my Beloved,
So I dare throw off every care for I am yours . . .
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!
There was a boy of ancient lore, who walked so regally through every door;
He was ruddy and strong, wise and as stately as an eventide song sung long;
He grew in stature and knowledge, and naturally knew what to do each day,
As he perfectly balanced work and play, and would say only what was right
In sight of everyone under the sun, because even in the dark he lived in light
So bright that many thought he’d been forged as a knight by heaven’s might;
And so it was that on a battlefield fierce he dared to pierce the enemy lines
With but sling and sleek stone by which he alone slew the one giant of fear,
Who stood so near on dreary day, while his people watched with admiration
And sensation as the great, husky foe fell to the ground with terrible sound;
Then did the army gain courage against pain of war and tore into the field,
Led by this brave boy whom history knows simply as David, born to be king
Softly and tenderly I hear your voice again,
And has it been so long and I so very wrong?
Slight enticements led me away day after day,
Until your face was but a shadowy memory,
And your choice voice but vaporous whisper;
But now how clear I hear your song over me!
Softly and tenderly I hear your voice again. . .
We cast long shadows over our own lives,
So long that we belong to those shadows,
Though we imagine we are walking in light
With our sight set high and so we fly . . .
We fly to our own murky destinations
Without hesitation or any examination,
Thinking all will be well (so sound the bell!)
When we have only created our own hell
We cast long shadows, deep and dark,
And in them we hide from stark reality,
But the finality is all the same (and not tame);
We wake up to realize it’s more than a game!
Yes, we cast long shadows over our lives,
And we bury ourselves in their folds,
But when bold comes the light shadows flee
And we can see clearly the bright truth
And then, and only then, can we really be free
Awakening to the new day with new possibilities and always hope
In your company, Beloved, as you give each moment greater scope,
Shot through with meaning, even if this man cannot see what it is;
Nevertheless, you love me with an everlasting love that never fails,
And so I rejoice in your presence, even in pain that seems to gain
An upper hand, but you have tied our band so that I am fully yours,
Now and forever, so this suffering, too, shall pass away in your day,
Which is dawning even now and promises no end . . . so let it be!
The tower stands dark and foreboding, tall and strong,
And I can’t climb the walls no matter how much I long,
And so trapped inside I cry for help to right the wrong;
So one day soon I will once again join the joyful throng
Yes, these walls stretch up into the sky
So far above me and I understand why:
That no resident will ever say goodbye
But the builder never counted on wings
To bring this man out with song to sing,
Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia to God ‘n king!
So help me now my Lord, even now to set me free
To be all that you would have me be, with reverie
Beyond these cold walls for all of the world to see!
Welcome to the City of Light where bright rules the day
Every step along the way, where the soul can safely stay,
Where one can rest in an extraordinary nest of serenity,
Where there is plenty of love and peace that never cease
Here in this place, where the pace is slow and beautiful,
And joy dutiful to attend every step and the mind is kept
From all alarm as fear is dispersed by the light ever near
To the heart with no false start in any part of joyous day;
And where the night is absent of all fright and very calm,
Which is a healing balm to the soul … in the City of Light
Thankfully I was able to sleep through most of the night, though I woke up earlier than I wanted or intended. The morning has been very rough, yet not as much as other mornings. I have put in a call to my psychiatrist concerning the akathisia from which I currently suffer. Hopefully, I pray, he will call me back. Of course, I will call again if he does not call me this morning … and I will keep calling until I get ahold of him.
Holding onto hope by faith is very difficult at times, but I keep trying to tell myself that “this, too, shall pass.” It is, as I’ve said before, an extremely tough row to hoe. The effects of akathisia (at its worst) practically paralyze me on the inside, but God has been very gracious and good. Generally speaking, the days and nights are getting better and, like now, I am able to write and read without feeling like I’m coming completely unglued.
Of course, there must be an answer – in other words, cure – for my plight or, at least, I keep telling myself. And naturally I keep praying for some cure and return to normalcy. This leads me to once again thank my family, friends, readers and fellow-bloggers for your thoughts, encouragement and continuing prayers for me. Words to adequately express my deep gratitude allude me. I can only offer my sincere, heartfelt thankfulness.
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