Category: Poems

One step closer,

nothing to prove,

one step closer,

to you, Lord.

One step farther,

away from this world,

one step further,

towards you, Lord.

I’ve done what they wanted,

and what they required,

from all that I’m totally through.

Now Lord, I’m coming to you.

Oh, your night smells so sweet,

though my days were well spent,

but its time now to put up my feet—

towards heaven I’m totally bent.

I’m happy to shed all the things I have gathered,

so happy to give them all up,

the duties and all of the ways I have labored,

all fade as You gather me up.

Gather me up Lord, yes please, gather me up,

I’ve nothing to prove here, its true.

Everything vanishes from view,

Each step, I take closer to You.

~FS

Spinning, spinning,

round and round,

a dog chasing his tail,

is no way to be,

no way to find it.

Hiding, hiding,

its all around,

a blind man wails,

no light to see,

no light to find it.

Falling, falling,

down and down,

a nature so frail,

no hope in us,

God help us find it!

Stopping, stopping,

slowing down,

a corrupt mind assailed,

no thought is free,

no thought can find it.

Breathing, breathing,

turning round,

a world to bewail,

no longer to agree,

unwillingness to find it.

Praying, praying,

bowing down,

a Savior to hail,

in Him is peace,

The Way to find it—

Peace so elusive.

~FS

It is better to seek,

even if we do not find,

than to never seek at all.

It is better to keep seeking,

even though we do not find,

than to give up the search entirely.

It is better to wait upon the Truth,

than to grow impatient and then,

to populate our mind with illusions.

It is better to keep waiting,

and to exercise our hope,

than to grow indolent upon deceptions.

Even if our soul were to indulge a thousand years upon the fat of this land—

Still, it would languish and fall faint, for lack of spiritual nourishment.

Though our seeking may appear fruitless, and our waiting unfulfilled—

Seeking and waiting reveal their inner mysteries, and by these we are continually renewed.

~FS

God gives everything to those who pray,

To them who pray in spirit and in truth,

Who ask for Him, before all other things,

He gives to them everything they ask.

He gives them eyes to see what they couldn’t see,

And ears to hear the things they couldn’t hear,

He shows freedom to the one who yearns for progress,

And He speaks stability for those who value tradition.

He is all things, for all people, in all times,

He satisfies every need in the midst of needs,

And at the end of times, He is the source of all,

God is the peace that eludes the world.

~FS

Sleep, sweet sister of this life,

Awake, handmaiden of Christ,

Dwell within this body no more,

Arise in the house of the Lord.

For you, our dream is done,

For me, dreams are just begun,

Imagining you in a new world living,

These are the thoughts I find comforting:

You are safe now in the mansions of the righteous.

Through the gardens of paradise you roam.

You are a flame of fire, resplendently bright,

Abiding forever, in a day without night.

You’ve finally made it—you’re home sweet home.

~FS

(*A film-maker is currently asking this question, What is a Woman? And apparently the question has stumped many of the experts who are interviewed in the movie. I thought I’d give the question a go. It is certainly difficult to answer fully, but it doesn’t seem all that difficult to at least give a meaningful answer.)

What is a woman?

She is a female human,

with a physiology,

that can carry,

and bear offspring.

Within her body,

she has the power,

to nourish new life,

and to bring forth,

new people!

A woman,

is like a man,

but different.

Each woman unique,

individual,

and free to live,

within the parameters:

of nature,

and truth,

and reality!

A woman is not,

a made-up thing,

or a construct,

of our feelings,

and delusions.

Women are made,

not imagined:

they are not unicorns,

nor an identity that,

just anyone,

a man for instance,

can adopt by whim,

or by fancy, or even,

by desire.

A woman,

is the image of God.

~FS

The carnage is everywhere…

How can we go on living?

With so much dying all around us?

Don’t look…

I didn’t mean to.

I tried not to.

But it was right there in front of me before I could turn away.

I saw it and recoiled.

I shook as I cried.

And then my mind broke…

Just for a moment, before terror forced me to put it back together again.

Could I lose my mind because of all this carnage?

Easily.

But what good will that do?

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lose hope.

Lose hope, give up.

I didn’t mean to let you down.

How will I make it to the end of this life, quickly, before I lose my mind for good?

In this race, it is a race now, which will come to me first?

I hope I die before I go mad.

How can I go on living?

With so much dying all around me?

Should I look?

Should I learn to shrug when I see pain?

Or learn to laugh when I witness sorrow?

I’ve seen some who approach it this way.

It’s ugly, but effective.

It beats curling up into a ball of tears,

and melting away.

Or does it?

Pain is commonplace.

Death is everywhere.

But I just can’t seem to get used to it.

~FS

Blue appears the perfect color for the sky,

wings work well for the birds as they fly.

How then are the things of which I consist,

so inappropriate for a world such as this?

The powers that are vital here for success,

in me are wholly lacking or scarce at best:

The stress expected by our environment,

the drive to strive is not my native talent.

Oh! To live in a place I’m constituted,

of inner gifts and outer needs well suited.

Where I can lay aside my soul’s contortions,

myself within the world now well proportioned.

~FS

After months of darkened skies,

though tranquil to our eyes,

the sun shines bright,

it casts vibrant light;

ripping melancholy asunder,

in holy sequined splendor,

stirring new hopes within,

we witness new life begin.

~FS

On a clear blue day,
sometimes I’m not ready,
to see and to be seen.
Give me one that’s gray,
soft and somewhat blurry,
to ponder and to dream.

And let it rain a lot,
in buckets and in sheets,
and wind buffeting the windows.
Lost within my thought,
tucked deep beneath my sheets,
I’m careless which way the wind blows.

Sunny days can be very fine,
But rainy ones are quite sublime.
Though clear blue skies are delightful,
Cloudy days are more insightful.

~FS