Seeds of Faith

Contentment

A muse once told me of joy and pleasure,
Of beautiful things beyond all measure.
She spoke of trees whose leaves would never fade,
And daffodils that grew in every glade.

The mountains were purple and the oceans were blue;
The sunsets were orange–of a beautiful hue.
The clouds were not dark and ne’er did it rain,
And lovers were happy; they never knew pain.

All of these words, though spoken so fair,
Were naught but a trifle–a waste of good air;
For flowers and trees, though beauty possess,
Will never compare to your warm caress,

And mountains and sunsets, though rich in their hue,
Can never embezzle my love for you.

A Song of Spring

Come stroll with me thou sprightly lass;
Why should one’s youth too quickly pass?
‘twould be a sin to spend our days
Without each other’s tender gaze.

’tis said that idle minds will stray
If one forgets he’s made of clay;
Are houses built with folded hands,
Or battles won in distant lands,

Without the effort of a few
That choose to do what they must do?
It’s clear that love is not for fools
Who sit and dream of finding jewels

Among some lonely distant isle.
These words I say contain no guile,
Yet I must ownl that I have naught
Those golden rings from Holland brought,

Or stately ships with mighty men
That sail the seas and back again;
Nor do I own a large estate
With marble walls and golden gate.

My love is all that I can give;
This empty soul in which I live
Awaits your lovely, lively form:
Please say the word and calm the storm.

Love Triangle

And she,

Beside the sea

With hearts and souls entwined,

Deride the man who thinks love’s blind.

’twas God alone who mixed the potent brew;

’twas He who found our hardened hearts and made them new.

Haiku: The White Tiger

White tiger paces

Across the limestone threshold.

His house has no door.

Oh restless love which longs to loose those chains,
You’re free to roam the wild and distant plains.
For you were born in fields of ageless splendor;
Should you be forced to live without the tender
Warmth and companionship that kings enjoy?

Or do you think that love could never cloy?
I’ve watched you hunting in the morning light;
Your claws are sharp and you are keen of sight.
Perhaps you’ve stepped upon a thorny tree
Or found yourself out walking aimlessly,

But why should you be left in such a rage
That you should long to stay inside your cage?

La Plegaría

¡Por favor, el tiempo está ahora!

We only have this moment, Love.
Our time is like a passing breeze
Which sways the branches high above
Or moves the ships upon the seas.

Please do not stand as poplars do
Against the icy northern wind;
For if you’ll look you’ll find this clue,
That gentle trees know how to bend.

The peaceful gull above the foam
Is well aware of doom below.
He does not fear to leave his home;
Nor does he live a life of woe,

But flies with vigor through the air.
To you my dear I say these things;
I trust that you are well aware
That we were born with angels’ wings.

Let’s keep our eyes upon the Sun
And never stop until we’ve won
That endless race and life is done.

Song: To Laura

Arise thou gentle, tender shoot;
Apollo runs the race with zeal.
I hear the trumpet and flute;
The rain, the warmth–all these I feel.

As sprightly drops begin to fall
Upon the daffodil’s long trump,
The robin to his mate dost call;
Soon they’ll place each tiny clump

Of amber straw upon the heap,
Then they’ll add the twigs with care.
Inside this nest the young will sleep,
Protected from the chilly air.

A bird I am ‘though I lack wings,
And I am subject to the tune
That mother nature softly sings.
To walk with you will be a boon;

’twill be a rapture of delight
To hold your hand and touch your mind.
We’ll burn as candles in the night,
Proclaiming joy unto a world unkind.

While others stand as statues cold
Awaiting their triumphant day,
We’ll laugh, we’ll sing, we’ll be so bold.
Can statues sing? Can statues pray?

While on their knees the worldly folk
Implore the shiny, scaly beast,
No golden calf will we invoke;
Nor will we join their merry feast.

Why should we drink their bitter wine,
When we can share an ancient brew?
We’ll share the cup; we’ll share the vine;
With arms entwined we’ll toast to two.

As one we’ll live; as one we’ll pray
To God above–the God of love.
We’ll share the night; we’ll share the day;
Our bodies will touch as hand and glove.

Around your neck I place my hand;
My fingers glide across your back;
Our ankles touch the burning sand.
What joy we have; we nothing lack!

Miserly Maiden

You’ve come to steal my heart?
An ironmonger’s wife
Would ne’er agree to part
With hardened ore and strife.
Am I a single lass?
It must have slipped my mind.
I’m married to this mass
Of molten copper and brass.

It’s fun to polish my rings
(these stones are getting old);
My parrot never sings
(he’s only made of gold).

You’re such a humble man;
You’ll never find a bride.
Had you a dark sedan,
You’d be afraid to ride.
28
A ragged wretch you are;
You’re nothing but a fool.
My reputation I’d mar,
My friends would think me cruel
If I were caught with you.
You say that you’re a thief?
You haven’t come to woo,
Or to bring this lady grief?

Please take this golden chain;
Remove this silver band!
I thought you’d bring me pain;
Instead you take my sand.

I’m glad you’re not a beau;
I hate their lustful smiles.
You’re such an honest crow;
You told me of your wiles.

Most men would steal my heart;
My riches they’d ignore,
But you are much too smart
To take the pyrite ore.

Adultery's Antidote

Variation
means variety-to most people.
Here a little Arsenic,
there a little Strychnine.
How about a gourmet meal-
A little Mercury perhaps?

Drop by drop,
the infusion begins:
first by Mary,
then by Susan;
finally by you.

Drop by drop
the poison falls
into his veins.
Will he stop
before he’s dead?

Give him the antidote-
give him love.
Love wishes joy
upon others.
Love joins man to wife,
and love rejoins them.

Meditation: On Preachers of the Social Gospel

By saving the chaff
And discarding the kernel,
You’ve thrown away
Those things that are eternal.

Your kingdom consists
Of bread and honey.
When you reach those pearly gates,
What will you do with all your money?

You would rob the rich
To enrich the poor;
Then you would knock
At the peasant’s door.

Now the music plays;
Later it will stop.
The rich and the poor,
Their seats will swap.

While you drive your Lincoln
With the push button doors,
You reflect on the wealthy
And their glittering stores.

The Gospel to you
Is only a book;
You talk of salvation
While you bait your hook.

You call yourself a sheep,
And you know the Shepherd’s name,
But you have overlooked
The sick and the lame.

You blame it all on money
(or the lack of it);
You refuse to acknowledge
That sin is from the pit.

You laugh at the devil,
Or calmly ignore him.
You imply that being wealthy
Is life’s greatest sin.

You spend your nights
With pen in hand,
Signing deeds and loans
For houses and land.

Your sermons are simple:
More food, more gold.
No mention of Christ;
You say He’s sick and old.

When you endorsed God’s mortgage note,
Did you see that bottom line?
Or did you close your eyes
And carelessly sign?

Allow me to read it to you:
“Sin’s great price
Was paid by the Lender’s Son;
Nothing else would suffice.”

Before you attempt to sell
Another costly house,
Remember to introduce
The bridegroom to His spouse.

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