Category: Poems

Christ is risen from the dead,

trampling down death by death.

And upon those in the tombs,

bestowing life!

 

He has healed the fragmented world,

torn asunder through sin.

He has restored the unity of creation,

and closed the breach caused by deception.

 

Christ is risen from the dead,

causing all to sing for joy,

brightening the newborn day,

with hope!

 

This is the day that the Lord has made,

it is a day which shall never end!

Let us rejoice and be glad in this,

for creation is created anew!

 

Christ is risen from the dead,

giving fallen man new birth,

casting out the dark of sin,

bringing paradise to earth!

 

Let peace and mercy dwell together,

our hearts be the dwelling place of love.

Christ has risen from the dead,

let us live in faith and hope!

 

Christ is risen from the dead,

this is the perfect morning!

Beginning of the brand new day,

and Light that is never-ending!

 

~FS

Little mouse, little creature,

I saw you suffering in a wide field.

Forlorn and forsaken (you appeared to me),

head low, with back arched against the formidable sky.

The weight of emptiness seeming to bear you down,

your tiny body nearly invisible beneath the world’s expanse.

 

Little creature, little friend,

I recognized in your pain the throes of death—

your shallow, labored breathing,

your eyes tight against the waning light—

would that I could raise you when you die,

instead, I raised you on my finger.

 

And finding a safer shelter for your final slumber,

I lowered you again to earth,

and tucked you in, amidst the fallen leaves.

You lifted your head as if in gratitude, or in hope?

Do not hope in me dear one,

I am just like you, powerless and small.

 

Little comfort could I give, but I gave,

a whispered, gentle prayer for you and me,

while stroking your soft fur to soothe you.

And saying my farewell,

with one final touch upon your brow,

I left you alone there, returning home.

 

I brought you with me, yet, in my mind,

the icon of your helpless body,

fated to be gobbled up by death.

This image terrorized and numbed me,

disturbed my thoughts, and stirring up despair,

made me frantic to understand and know…

 

Is innocence meant thus to suffer so alone?

Why can’t life beyond the grave be truly known?

When hope and faith seem so misplaced,

while staring death straight in the face,

what spark is there,

to make them kindle, and to grow?

 

I made myself as you, little mouse, with head hung low,

I hunched down to the earth, and prayed to God with tears.

It was the Lord who soothed my deathly fears,

and calmed my troubled, despairing mind.

It is the Comforter Who touched me on my brow,

and it is He who filled my aching heart.

 

Foolishly I had looked, but hadn’t seen,

the Breath of Life which enlivens you and me.

The Holy Spirit giving comfort from within,

perceived through the eyes of contrition.

 

Little creatures, you and I, so small and lowly,

yet through our suffering we are raised, and then made holy.

Giver of life, come and abide in us, I pray,

save our souls, as we await Your eternal day.

 

~FS

Faith was beheaded and disembodied,

to an anthem of “Faith alone!” they cried.

Faith was removed far from human action,

in the name of God for our protection.

 

Now faith is a word and an idea alone,

faith’s garment for grace we now must bemoan;

is no longer clothed by works of loving,

her beauty no longer manifesting.

 

The demons laughing uproariously,

witnessing faith embodied take a knee:

Her potency now denied!

Her ontology now decried!

 

Without the fight for our divinity,

faith by necessity will atrophy.

Labors of love and ascetic action,

are our pathway with grace to salvation.

 

What human ever loved without doing;

what madness instead calls this condemning?

Man no longer desiring divinely,

directs his love to everything worldly.

 

Listen to the words of the Lord intoned:

“I love those who by My commands they do,”

but we who by our words of faith alone,

reveal us as the ones He never knew.

 

~FS

Vanity is a too-sweet sugar,

coursing through my veins.

 

I lap up praise like a starving dog,

although it never satisfies.

 

Humility and silence are healthier foods,

giving nourishment to the soul.

They won’t make one famous,

but they’ll lead to a worthier goal.

 

I find I’d rather engorge on candies,

than thrive on my spiritual veggies—

growing sickly on pride and conceits,

a soul’s diet of empty calories.

 

I’m addicted and enslaved to these strivings.

I’m dulling and dimming by my desiring,

to be worshipped rather than to be worshiping,

ambitions estrange me from holy living.

 

Vanity leads onward to vanities,

obscuring our wits from reality,

preoccupying our minds with inanities,

and filling them full with strange fantasies.

 

Resist, desist, foolish humanity,

satisfaction is won through humility!

 

Put down all your sickening vanities,

and take up noble silence instead!

 

~FS

How can I help but be joyful,

with the Son rising up in my heart?

How can I help but sing boldly,

with the sun casting out all that’s dark?

 

With peace welling up like a fountain,

and joy flowing forth as a river;

God’s Kingdom’s descending from heaven,

and my mind sees a glimpse of forever.

 

Could angels sing praises more fully,

than we who have suffered through pains,

who marched ever onward in sorrows,

finding victory and eternity’s gains?

 

Join me in praises forever,

to our King and Creator, Amen!

Join Him in all of His glory,

as He raises us free from our sin.

 

The Spirit empowers us to love Him,

to live with Him fully each day.

Please embrace this power you’ve been given,

don’t squander or give it away.

 

How can we help but be joyful,

as Christ wipes away all of our tears?

How can we help but sing boldly,

as He fills us more fully each year?

 

~FS

The depth of my joy comes from sorrow,

the breadth of my smile flows from tears.

Joy built upon pleasure’s too narrow,

will fade, then be lost, year by year.

 

The joy of the soul that is lasting,

is founded on Christ and His cross.

It’s encountered through prayer without ceasing,

and embraced by the carrying of our cross.

 

Approaching the Lord in His glory,

exposes all of my shame.

Trusting our God in His mercy,

frees us forever from blame.

 

Unconditional joy’s wrought by suffering,

it’s divinely inspired and given.

Whereby pain is transformed into healing,

step by step ever closer to heaven.

 

~FS

I have been like a ravenous beast,

eyes bulging,

seeking its prey.

 

I have not been at peace.

 

Scanning the earth,

grasping at comfort,

greedy for pleasure.

 

I’m out of my lair.

 

God once was my home,

green pastures for resting,

still waters for drinking.

 

No reason to roam.

 

Deceptive visions then lured me,

raging passions then drove me,

I became hungry and feral.

 

Domestic no more.

 

Now I roam and devour,

feeding and feeding,

upon worldly pleasure.

 

Eating and eating,

and for all my eating—

 

I starve.

 

~FS

I saw a rainbow today.

So beautiful.

 

You may have liked that I take a photo,

to show you.

 

But instead I just stared at it for a long while,

then put it in my heart.

 

I’m sorry.

 

But I think it is more beautiful,

safe in there.

 

~FS

I have a nervous tongue,

but a steady hand.

I lack eloquence in speech,

but I can put down, in writing,

a pretty good sentence.

 

Words jumble and tumble from my mouth,

jostling one another to get free—

running, then stumbling over my lips.

 

As thoughts pile up in my head,

words fight each other for proper order;

struggling at the tip of my tongue,

pushing and shoving,

lunging then leaping out the door.

 

I hear their chaos

as they echo in my ears,

and I wonder,

“Do you understand me?”

 

“I’m not sure I just did.”

 

You nod and smile politely.

 

And I think again,

“If only I could have written to you instead.”

 

~FS

There is a slow evolution to sorrow,

as time passes, it falls from the trees, so to speak,

its color fades, and it molders,

and then disappears beneath the surface.

 

It dissipates, filtering through our sub-strata,

the molecules of sorrow penetrating our deep recesses,

and lodging there.

 

Meanwhile, life goes on, as they say.

 

I see the bold beauty of a sunflower and smile,

and my daily tasks I greet with gratitude;

I am thankful for this life I have been given.

 

But what of the lives that have been taken away,

particularly the one,

or two, that made up the fabric of our being,

whom we shared this life with as if they were our very selves?

 

Now they are gone,

perhaps leaving us many years ago,

or just last year, and somehow—

even though this world is still very beautiful,

and our lives are very blessed—

their absence has left a cold vacuum within us.

 

And when I stop for a moment from my activities,

I sense my soul gasping for air, bewildered and sighing,

confused at being left here alone.

 

Nothing is as it was,

and nothing can be again.

 

Yet still I see the vibrant color in the trees,

and the leaves as they fall.

Life is a rich tapestry,

that infuses time with brilliance—

 

I am stunned by its misery and its beauty.

 

~FS