05 June 2011

funny, isn't it?

as i grow, i realize that when God speaks He uses a variety of mediums. it's like He's saying, "did you get it? I'm making it really obvious here." from words of friends to sermons to my own mouth to a random devotional book to movies, no medium is beyond His use. and so, in light of His clear reminder to me that bringing beauty from hard places is so important, i share my poor attempt at a psalm, written in church as directed from the stage.
O Lord how glorious You are to my dim eyes.
You created the shady streets I walk along that cheer my heart.
You provided me with friends like Suzanne who put up with my intensity.
Even though my attitude stinks and I despair of ever being happy You remind me that joy is found in worshipping You alone.
I remember how good You have been in providing me with finances and opportunities to travel.
Restore within me the heart of worship.
I love you hasta siempre.
selah

03 June 2011

sestina

thought i'd share the poem my friends and i decided to challenge each other to write (i learnt a new form and not an easy one!). here's my attempt at a sestina.

Stanza 1

like a curtained backdrop sit the mountains

looming serenely with peculiar presence of mind

at their feet sprawl these crowded streets

where a soft wind rustles the lonely cypress trees

oblivious and with heads bend rush the people

serving greed, the insatiable master

Stanza 2

one and all who bow to this chameleonic master

be it money, fame or even the towering mountains

are not far removed from the pioneering people

who with prosperity on every mind,

even as they buried heartache ‘neath the trees,

saw down the long, misty passage golden streets

Stanza 3

hidden to the hopeful eyes there lurks on decaying streets

the dark side of chasing desire--now here master

trampling lives under old willow trees

But beyond a path winds up the mountains

where the smog cannot reach and clog the mind

perspective comes from above the tired people

Stanza 4

from on high a voice calls to the people

softly, potently it weaves its way down the streets

“Let Me in” echoes in each mind

and to each heart presents a new Master

One whose hands shaped these peaceful mountains

and who with grace grows each of the trees

Stanza 5

each frantic life is stretching up like trees

yet finding nothing chokes the soul of the people

equally blind to the Maker of the shrubby mountains

they ignore the voice calling in the streets

some sadly fail and misrepresent this strong Master

and so cause resentment in many a battered mind

Stanza 6

yet He who guards the heart guards the mind

knows the time for those dwelling under the trees

knows also the gnawing want they call master

and still longs to call them His people

that one day rejoicing will mark these streets

drowning out the cries from the rocky mountains

Tercet

the haze thickens around magnolia trees beside the mountains

dulling each mind to the unseen battle in the lazy wide streets

while each master contends for these unsuspecting people