September 26, 2010

His All, His Most, His Best

Posted in Poetry tagged at 7:53 am by tclickenger

One day the world I gazed upon
Were living life as Kings
My heart was set to own anon
A portion of their things.

They seemed to have God’s blessings when
I struggled meagerly
I whispered to my soul within
“How vain my life must be.”

A thus my heart was grieved to tears
My feet were almost gone.
My calculated worth drew fears
That grew very strong.

And then I heard a trumpet sound
The voice of Gospels ring-
My spirit lifted from the ground
My heart began to sing.

My feet were straightened on the path
The light was bright again
Refreshing times replaced the wrath
Like sun replaces rain.

I studied long, I sought God’s face
The Truth I should defend
I went into His Holy place
Then understood their end.

Their ways of lust and calloused greed
And hearts of selfish pride
Will lead their souls to where they feed
And leave unsatisfied.

Destruction lies before their door
Their lives a carousel
The ways of darkness they implore
Will lead to burning hell.

But God’s the strength of heart & soul
When failure looms so near
He’s a faithful guide when in control
He’s patient and so dear.

So now when looking at the world
I’m humbled in my place
For God my Father has unfurled
The wisdom of His grace.

And I can stand so thankfully
With inner peace and rest
And know for sure God’s given me
His all, His most, His best.

………………………Rodney Roberts


September 23, 2010

I Watch the Wind

Posted in Poetry at 9:52 pm by tclickenger

Author’s note: The Greek word “pneuma” is translated in our language to mean “air, wind, breath, spirit”; so when reading this poem remember this for a clearer understanding.

I Watch The Wind

I watch the wind that stirs the cloud
That brushes brows and whispers peace.
I watch the wind that stirs the crowd
And find the moments of release.
Caressing hair of grey or brown-
A tattered shock or lonely crown
I see the ones who sway or bend
To coaxing pressures of the wind.
I feel the aftermath of storms,
I see the rain- the dew that falls
A prayer from in the Holy Halls.
I watch the rush- the wishful climb-
The heated gust in overtime.
The pleading breeze that longed to share
The bashful wind that wouldn’t dare,
The wind of Faith, the wind of Doubt,
The wind of Pain, the wind of shout,
The wind of tear, the wind of song,
the wind of shame, the wind of wrong.
I watch the wind, I feel the wind,
I know the wind is ever near
And as a slave most disciplined
I bow in servitude and hear
The whispered peace or bellowed strain
That lifts a soul or causes pain,
And from inside my silent shroud
I watch the wind that stirs the cloud.

I watch the wind that stirred the cloud-
That killed, destroyed and robbed the crowd-
That filled the minds with fleshly ease-
Who willed to sway within the breeze.
From in my dark and callow shroud
I watched the winds that brushed the crowed
And lifted up to vanity
Their name and true identity.
I watched the sway- emotions stirred-
And longed to touch the minds interred
But held obscure by host and crowd
I lay inept within my shroud.
A woeful soul and helpless slave
held bound inside a callow grave
To see all hope to touch the crowd
Consume away inside a shroud.
Brings much distress and lack of ease,
Invites the grip of vanities,
Lays pain and trouble at the door
Which binds entombment even more.
To find escape and turn the key
We look to faith our victory
And overcome the earthly crowd-
Become a part of heaven’s cloud.
We then can see the righteous norm
Reveals in truth the body’s form
And not alone we stand to fight
Against the forces of the night.
For to us all are gifts bestowed
And hand in hand we share the load.
Then all together, free of shroud,
We reach and touch the raging crowd!

……………………Rodney Roberts