Cry of the Stars

Across this churning, tossing sea of life
There lies, prepared for me, a wondrous place
Where heartbreak, sorrow, pain, all tears and strife
Dissolve, and are eternally erased
A place of perfect peace--my Lord is there
His Face shall give more light than does the sun
The multitude to sing the praises fair
Of God, the Everlasting Sovereign One
When life does rise and lift me high above
I sometimes faintly glimpse that distant shore
That glows a shining, glorious pledge of love,
A promise made by God; I need not more.
To go there now--I know I surely would
And this remains: my God, my God is good.

[A/N: My first attempt at writing a sonnet...lemme know how you think I did.]

I have a story, just for you
And better yet, the story's true--
Of what sustains my every breath
Of how a Love endured through death

Now, listen: God, of glorious might
Of endless knowledge, piercing sight,
The treasure of the greatest worth,
He spoke a word and made the earth

And with it, He created man
And held the creature in His hand
There was no suff'ring, was no pain,
On perfect love there was no stain

But pride then entered Adam's heart
One bite was just the dreadful start
Of mankind's war against their God
In sin and shame now man would trod

The way once open closed with grief
All glimpses of His glory brief
A chasm vast gaped deep and wide
From God's dear presence, man would hide

So time in sorrow passed on by,
But God had made His plans on high
The ever-selfless, gracious One
So loved the world--He sent His Son

Then God in humbled human form
Was met with malice, jeers, and scorn
He lived a perfect life for us,
Then took my place upon the cross

The Father's wrath poured out on Him
And even as the earth grew dim,
He felt the anguish and the cost
But suffered through to save the lost

For sin was covered by His blood
Dissolving in that crimson flood
And death as well was overturned
As Jesus from the grave returned

A hope for man, who'd gone astray
To God there was again a way--
The chasm wide is wide no more
For Jesus Christ has won the war!

Those who by faith believe His name
No longer bear their guilt and shame
The Holy Spirit dwells within
To aid us in our fight with sin

Now time is drawing to a close
And rife and fearsome are the foes
But all the little odds and ends
Point to the Day when Christ descends

He'll come again, now as the King
His glorious praises we shall sing
The Lord will make the world anew
The balance never more askew

His people to His arms will run
As precious daughter, precious son
A paradise with God once more
The Kingdom with the King most sure

Now tell me, would you rather fight
Against the God who spoke the light?
Or let His blood wash over you
And be reborn a creature new?

The story still continues on
With every dusk and every dawn
The Author writes each day anew...
But don't forget--He loves you too

Where would you go if I told you I didn’t know?
Would you be sad if I threw it all away?
What would you see me as if I pretended not to know?
What would you think if you knew I was naive?
How would you react if I ran away?
Could it be any better if we knew the question?
What do I do when my ignorance can’t get me by?
Where would this fool go without the light?
Have the answers all run away?

The brown mouse scurries over your foot,

as the pillows eat up every crumb

Your nose dances in the air

Remembering yourself plaid and mistaken

The Sun plays with Death,

as the birds fly by

Tomorrow pretends not to listen

Forever you'll be searching for the number

Everyone tells you the flowers speak lies,

but you know better than them

Picture her under the floorboards,

with lighters and treasure

Forget the cities and their worries

Look in the sea for the one who knows no truth,

the world fast asleep to the lull

London will tell you not to go by

They told me not to judge a book by its cover

But you know me better than that

The clock's arms are tired

Folly and the Fool sing hand in hand

A passionate red color that replace the once healthy pink,
the inflammation quite unpleasant
An almost to the extent of terrifying cough echoes in the room,
which nearly every body flees
Tissues of pearl and cream nestle happily around the house conveniently,
where the kitty finds great pleasure
A sickly sight is left watching television programs on the computer,
packets of Dayquil, Nyquil, Advil, and Benadryl (plus any other medication that ends with an “ill” sound) scatter around oddly

Alas! I have but finite eyes
That cannot pierce through worldly veils
To see Your glory, shining here
Father, lend my heart new eyes
That I might see, and love You more

And in like manner, too, my ears
They cannot pierce through worldly veils
To hear Your tender call to me
Father, lend my heart new ears
That I might hear, and love You more

The way to You lies open, now
And what shall hold me back?
Crucify myself, and let
Me run to You alone.

Server writer's block,
defeat is sadly quite scarce
Victory please come

--

I haven't written,
for nearly a month
Something is missing,
and so is its identity
Inspiration is easy to come by,
but taking it is the hard part
Grasping the ideas,
Catching the rhyme
Finding the words

Ride the dragon, ride him high
Weave the story 'round the sky
Let him guide you, turn no oar
Only faith will let you soar
Find the snow, then find the sun
And will then your task be done
This your task and this your road
Till another takes the load
Ride the dragon, leap the sea
Then his eye shall set you free

Jaden dragon, how it roars
Precious stone but yet alive
Stony winging, how it soars
Beware, beware that precious dive
This is not for you to know:
Where, oh where the treasure lies?
Till you find the sun with snow
Dragon bears you as it flies

While soldiers languish, battles rage,
By summer death is wrought
Not cannonballs, nor musket shells,
But sickness from the swamps, unsought
Malaria, typhoid, strike them down
A well man scarcely to be found
The deathly summer soon is past
But troubles far from gone
An Army lust--the natives crushed
Forced out again, the Walk that's Long
From their homes, like Trail of Tears
Hopes are buried under fears
Another battle claims the most
Antietam: a slaughter site
Cornstalks wave o'er scores of dead
Neither truly wins the fight
Mutilated men that groan
Forever, what a day to mourn!

Sherman marches to the sea,
Women, men, and children flee
Smoke, it billows to the sky
Left behind--twisted rail ties

Livestock slaughtered, houses burned
Fields are trampled, burnt, and spurned
When you see him, stay not, fly!
Leave behind--twisted rail ties

Soldiers spread for sixty miles
Raid and burn with bitter smiles
Not a scream, no, not a sigh
Left behind--twisted rail ties

Tomorrow is a stranger,
a stranger I’ll never know
Yesterday is now only a memory,
of radiance and grieves of past
The Present is where we’re at,
but what do we really know?
The Past, Present, and Future,
they are holders of our hope

Little noses press against icy windowpanes,
as they exhale warm breath to form a canvas
Stout fingers squiggle across the glass,
and little landscapes begin to take form

The worn kettle screeches with delight,
as it lets off its puffs of steam with merriment
Caring hands pour the warm drink,
as the clumsier hands of eager children drop handfuls of marshmallows

A smile stretches across the dim face,
at the sight of a snowman braving the cold
His coal grin brings a new kind of warmth to the pale face

A sigh is let loose from chapped lips,
as a tired Papa steps through the door
Little arms cling to him with enthusiasm
And suddenly the lines of worry have decreased

O, the small wonders of the Winter season

Jesus the Lord of all
Is lifted on a tree
To break the curse of Adam's fall
And set the captives free
Now nailed His holy hands
For guilt that once was mine
A cry that rings throughout the land
"My Spirit now is Thine!"

Why the stinging rain?
Or snow, or deep yawning caves?
Is there an answer?

Purpleys and blacks
Horizontal stripe patterns
Warm for the Winter

((author's note: Can you??))

Why is there never inspiration,
Rhythm, thoughts, or words that flow?
Why is there always cruel frustration,
Never knowing what you know?
Why is there never truth for knowing?
It is sought but never found
Always nothing there for showing
Seems a waste to make a sound.
Can you understand my rantings here?
Do you have an inkling, see?
If you have, then thrice a cheer,
You have done it more than me.