Archive for July 2011

Art (c) BushMaid

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To Know Him

By BushMaid

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When the day comes -
When we all rise:
I want to look
Deep in His eyes -

Open my mouth,
Let it be true -
Saying the words:
"Lord, I know you."

This artist is one of the most obscure Christian songwriters that I know of. In fact, for several of his songs, not even the lyrics exist on the web. (I know; I've looked) His songs are challenges; they ask deep questions that beg for answers. They are encouraging, uplifting, as well as faith building. I thought I would share with you one of my favourite songs by Dion, "Hearts Made of Stone". It reminds me of the many people who still feel this way.

Six word story time, and a wordle.

She wished things that were impossible.

Boredom is the absence of writing.

The silence was saying many things.

The growing weed strangled his heart.

The sunbeams shattered the crystal rainbow.

He couldn't tell confusion from reality.

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Flame

By BushMaid

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The flame flickered. Yellow and orange, it danced merrily to a silent tune, casting bizarre shadows. Hints of sapphire blue flashed here and there, as the swaying golden flame wavered in the slight breeze.

He watched it, the fire burning clearly in his eyes. How he loved it. Passing his finger quickly through the flames, the fire licked at his skin; singeing, but not burning. It was beautiful, wild, untameable, and unstoppable.

Licking his lips, he bent forward and struck a match, the sudden burst of light exciting him as the match head slowly burned.

The pyromaniac grinned with delight.

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Call of the Unsaved Soul

By BushMaid

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Wailing, screaming, fearful cries -
Tormented by such pain:
Tearing, rending, wrenching sighs
I hate to hear again.

Indifferent, calm, silent face -
Denying what I hear.
Life in order, all in place,
Denying all their fear.

Clear, transparent, see-through soul -
It's crying out to me.
Fallen, buried, in a hole;
The light never to see.

Calling, moving, urging on -
The Spirit bids me speak;
Of the saving, healing One,
The One I know you seek.

Thirsty, craving, desperate life -
Your soul clings to the hope.
Of no more death, hurting, strife;
To thrive rather than cope.

Gruesome, bruising, bleeding death -
I tell of how He died.
Joyful, risen, living breath
Of God can live inside.

Truthful, loving, peaceful smile -
You now are free to give.
Redeemed, saved, accepted child,
For Jesus you now live.

God's powerful, living voice -
Is calling us to share
His redemption, through a choice
That you can make through prayer.
~

Most of my poems I write from my own experiences. I experienced this poem only yesterday on a day of glorious sunshine, clear skies, and silence as I walked down our driveway. Sometimes... you just know you aren't alone.

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My Friend

By BushMaid

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I have a friend who walks with me,

But no one knows He's there.

Through all my life He's been my guide,

He's with me everywhere.

I tell Him all my secret thoughts

That no one else will hear.

He carries all my heavy loads,

My worries, strifes, and fear.

He's happy when I'm feeling high,

Upset when I am low.

Still, when I'm in a horrid mood,

He's with me where I go.

From deepest pain to fullest joy,

My friend, He feels the same.

And when I fall, He carries me

And whispers me my name.

I don't deserve this friend of mine;

His love could never earn.

He gave His life that I might live,

And from His life may learn.

His Word it guides me through my life,

It keeps me safe from harm.

His wisdom speaks through every verse,

His peace through every Psalm.

Not everyone can comprehend

The love God has for all.

This love can save the blackest soul,

If they but heed His call.

I have a friend who walks with me,

And leads me by the hand.

A friend who loves me more than life

And by my side will stand.

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The Gift
By BushMaid
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God gave to me a gift to hold,
A gift you cannot see.
A gift worth more than any gold:
Precious it is to me.

This gift is one I learnt was true -
Truth taught by God above.
It’s one I wish to share with you
This gift He gave through love.

But many leave me standing there,
Just staring at the floor.
This truth I’ve found, I wish to share:
But many slam the door.

“If you only knew!” cries my heart,
My soul, it moans in pain.
If one would let me share my part;
My words not be in vain.

But oh, alas! It tortures me,
That no one cares to hear.
I cannot help you all to see,
I cannot make it clear.

I grieve for all your sightless eyes,
I fight for you in prayer.
That you no longer heed the lies
Which keep you in the snare.

Such utter helplessness I feel,
My soul, it aches for you.
I wish that you knew it was real;
That you knew it was true.

All I can do is sow the Word,
For I will never know:
Someday my voice just may be heard -
And seeds may start to grow.