Knowledge

Not surprisingly, the thoughts contained within the meager lines of one of my more recent poems speak of a subject dear to my heart. In fact, it is not the single dearest subject on my heart, nor the most powerful, yet, it is one of relative importance. I feel so utterly and undeservingly blessed at this time in my life. My studies have commenced with ease and are a constant source of enjoyment for me, I feel that I am moving forward, growing, and understanding. Yet, in spite of these blessings of the moment, I also have the impression of a great weight - the weight of the future, of decisions that must be made and changes that must begin shortly. My human problem lies in the fact that I have no idea in which direction to steer the course of these decisions and changes. My latest poetry speaks a little to this effect. I believe it is the idealistic fulfillment of one aspect of the changes that must take place in my life, a fulfillment of a current thought process. Thus I was inspired to take up my amateur's pen. Thankfully, I know that the end of my strivings and goals of this nearing change are all thoroughly and lovingly planned by the omniscience of God. What a comfort to know that one does not strive alone or in vain! Finally, I have faith that no matter what happens the testimony of God's grace will sweeten and concurrently will His Kingdom be advanced in glory.

~ Jon ~

What I’d Do

If you only knew

All the notes and songs I sing,
Or how the autumn breezes ring,
The news the beauty birds they bring,
Or the paths I’d walk for you,

If only you knew

I’d take the rays of Sun in hand,
I’d build the mansion we had planned,
I’d place a crystal star on land,
And even bring some roses too…

If you only knew

Those thousand nights I’ve wished to run,
The miles ‘twain us down to none,
To speak until I’m never done,
About my love that’s ever true,

If you only knew

That when I’m never done that time,
I’d paint for you a sunset rhyme,
And ask of you that thing sublime,
I’d hold your hands and say I do.

If you only knew

What I would do for only you…

Grace-full

Strength for today, hope for tomorrow. Receiving a blessing or encouragement as an unwarrented or unexpected gift. A motivator that has the unlimited power to compell those who have been touched by its light it to great deeds of charity and kindness. A doctrine that separates Christianity from all other pretenders. A perfect life-blood that was shed for our imperfection to oonce again be made clean and pure. A season of redemption, a ray of hope, a word of kindness, a gift without repayment, risk with great reward, and a power to life one from the depths of earth to the height of the heavens: Grace. What an incredibly awe-inspiring concept! To imagine such an idea whilst living in a world of arroganace and selfish desire seems to be unthinkable; and yet, the refuge of imagination has become the strongold of reality. People are constantly striving to find their own way. Absorbed within their daily quests to ascend the staricase of fame and fotune they keep guard for "number one" while trampling those that surround underfoot. The montrous reality is that this process is repeated not only on a daily basis, but, many times, without guilt or apology as well. Something about this seems out of place. I often sense that many people have a vague premonition of what they are doing and would like to cease and reverse their direction and actions if they know how. If they only knew how.... If only...we could show them. What would happen if someone decided to break outside of the veritable prison of the modern rat race and begin to act in accordance with grace. What would result if this person became an example, in word and deed, to those surrounding him? Would people see the power of grace? Would they respond? And in just what manner would you answer their questions? What would would it take for you to live a life not merely seasoned but permeated with grace? Are you willing to change the world by example?

As you may probably be able to tell, my mind has been turning this concept over for an amount of time and has readily adopted it as a source of inspiration. And what better source of inspiration than that of grace? I experienced grace in so many incredible and life-changing ways this Summer that, upon reflection, I can't help but stand amazed, left with a desire to go out and return the ultimate favor to someone else. As I reflected upon the grace of this Summer and the special people that passed a knowledge of their gift onto me through example, my responce was one of thankfulness to God - the provider and Creator of grace. God who sought fit to give to even someone like me, a sad specimen trapped wearing the binding clothing of the world about me....but set free by the bearer of good news and given hope for the future through grace and forgiveness. Thus inspired, I wrote this little work. Let me know what you think ;-)

~ Jon ~

Daughter of Grace

Written at Camp Li-Lo-Li – Summer 2006
In part to resolve the many inspiring thoughts swirling in head at that time and also in part for....someone else.

In time she stands,
Words unopposed,
On the wings of wind she prances,
Carefree laughing, creating dances.

Daughter of Grace,
Smiles so sweet,
Her sunrise is my morning ever,
As I undertake each endeavor.

Rose of her cheeks,
Grace of her steps,
Prompt me to smile and stand in awe,
Her footprints of beauty I saw.

I’d been asleep,
In deep of night,
When spirit slipped away from me,
‘Ere she had set my prison free.

A slave to World,
And evil men,
I wore their clothes and saw no stains,
World held me fast in my own chains.

World didn’t know all,
One part he missed,
The daughter of the exiled King,
Dares to let bells of freedom ring.

At end of day,
She came to me,
I stared into her eyes like stars,
From behind my cold cell wall bars.

She spoke unto me,
Her voice was like song,
She asked me why I stayed trapped there,
Weighted down by all World’s cares.

I tripped for words,
And looked down,
But she lifted her voice in song,
And sang of His grace to right wrong.

She said it’s free,
This grace given me,
She bowed her head and spoke of her King,
And of the salvation He brings.

Moved to my core,
With tears in my eyes,
I asked for the Gift and strength to believe,
My prison of chains was relieved.

Who is this Child?
A savior of men?
Nay to the latter – She’s His Child,
Daughter of grace, meek and mild.

Through His good grace,
And Her innocence,
My life’s true foundation was built,
Rooted in love I will not wilt.

Through His good news,
Brought by a child,
My life was changed, a world renewed,
And World’s distortion construed.

World’s pow’r tested,
Tried, found wanting,
I chose King’s love at His expense,
And I’m in debt to Innocence.

Though World still tempts,
Remember your King,
The beauty of true purity,
Life, love and light for all to see.

Happy am I,
To have seen love,
Grateful that World could not touch you,
I pray this blessing continues,
Pure, that you’ll remain always,
A true Daughter of Grace and sense,

Redemptive Child of Innocence.

Listening for that Voice

I simply don't understand how in the world life works. In spite of this, however, I don't find myself craving a perfect understanding of all the hidden and unknown factors that influence daily life. I've often thought that it'd be more than beneficial to know what would happen before it did, or to at least see some rationality in circumstantial happenings. But, as someone close to me recently pointed out, that knowledge would make life dull and blunt. The fact is that no one can see the future. No matter how much I want to find a way out of dark times, no matter how much I try in my own power to escape adversity, no matter how hard I try to change, I won't be able to do a thing. I am powerless, completely reliant on someone else to guide me and to light the path on which I trod, though it be for a very short distance. Many times when I'm feeling especially blue I really despise and resent my figurative blindness; I feel helpless and worn for any practical solutions. Yet, I forget what I do know, I forget what is promised me, I forget what is sure and I begin to drown in unknowns. Fortunately for the entirity of humanity, whom I imagine all experience these moments at times, Salvation from this is available, solid ground is waiting to rise from the sea to give us a fim place to stand, if we would but ask God for it. And, as ridiculous as it may sound, it's amazing how often, even after asking for and standing on that solid ground, I forget that it's there and begin to drown again in the waves of doubt and self-ambiguity.

The last work I posted addressed those feelings of sinking and darkness in which I had found myself struggling recently. But, having cried out for solid ground, the voracity of those previous feelings has gone, replaced with the feeling of rock beneath my feet, though it was there the whole time. Now, my vision is clearing, and I'm getting ready to stand - and only One knows what will happen from there.

The sequel I've written is long, but it figuratively portrays the catalyst for change to which I'm in debt. Of course actual lasting change is found God, but others frequently point in that direction and help us move along in that direction. So, enjoy: When it Rained - A Story Sequel.

~ Jon ~

Forest shades of wonder,
I walk in humble awe,
Of beauty strong like thunder,
Though emotions are so raw.

Tow’ring pillars of wood,
Whisper gently divine,
Like God’s creation should,
Displaying truths by design.

These my heart holds dear,
Friends and those I love,
I think about in here,
And remember her above.

For here my soul finds rest,
Light of good shines ‘round,
Gentle flowers show this best,
Smiling up from the ground.

And so the whispers in the leaves,
Touch upon my heart so close,
All the tales the wind breathes,
Rustle sounds of hope most…

My only world of peace,
Quiet sanctuary,
This place where sorrows cease,
And remembrances marry.

I walked on through fields of green,
Under shadows of the trees,
And the lights of the sun seen,
Led me to my knees.

There in the stillness of the wood,
And ebenezers all around,
My heart was shaken as I stood,
And I heard another sound.

The distant silence shattered,
As lightening tore the sky,
Rain then poured and battered,
My solitude [was] defied.

Yet though the storm was fierce,
The rumbling passed its course,
The sky, by lightening no more pierced,
And light rain fell without force.

I stood still in my forest new,
All was quiet, all was still,
The peace of steady rain was true,
I stood listening with a will.

No sound escaped the pat’ring rain,
No melody to raise my hopes
I listened harder, but in vain,
Like those thin strands dangling ropes.

And there, that dusk, I missed you more,
Than everything, than life itself,
But I’m still here and waiting for,
Your lovely, friendly, kindest wealth.

Now as I listened closely to,
The rain fall gently through the air,
I though I heard a song renew,
Like that to which none compare.
----
Song drifts upon my ears through rain,
The song I gave up long as dead,
I hear, but faint, and full of pain,
Once more it sang throughout my head.

How my heart had sought that song,
Melodious, beautiful, sweet,
Its wells sustained me, cleansed my wrongs,
Now heard again it moved my feet.

One more I moved along that path,
Slowly, still doubting my pure joy,
But fear of my own soul’s wrath,
Drew me faster as man not boy.

As I moved, the rain fell fast,
My thoughts they ran beside my feet,
Every doubt aside was cast,
All I wished was you to meet.

I flew along that empty road,
Your sweet voice sang on with each step,
Serene forest through which I strode,
Echoed with your song; I wept.

Rain of your song and tears of hope,
Ran down my face as I ran on,
These feelings now I can cope,
New clothes was I about to don.

I saw ahead through trees, a light,
It burned within a clearing small,
So powerful and gracious, bright,
Sending forth a melodic call.

My heart felt like floating on air,
My soul caught in rapturous height,
I gazed upon my love so fair,
All sound and noise faded that night.

With disbelief in every stride,
Trembling with the force of love,
My journey ended by your side,
You held my gaze like angels above.

The terror of that night you fell,
Is gone forever with you here,
I hold your hands and say all’s well,
And with joy – there’s naught to fear.

The light of moon and sun of day,
Shine down around your glor’yus face,
Everything I wanted to say,
I spoke those days in our embrace.

The work of God, created stars,
Solid woods, their beauty true,
All laugh their smiles like painting art,
While once again I hold only you…

Metaphorically ambiguous....

I was elated today to once again feel the those glorious pulsing bursts of original energy running through the fingers to my pen. The past few weeks have been tantamount to trudging down a long mountain path without any opportunity to rest or reflect - it's just been one task after another with little time in between. They say that hindsight is 20/20, and I find myself agreeing with that pithy bit of wisdom more after this past crazy month I think I ever have. It was an arduous marathon getting to this point in the present, but I'm very thankful for that time of focus, dedication and trial. To be completely honest, I wouldn't have really grown at all, spiritually, mentally etc. without the challenges of the past few weeks. However, this morning, I walked out of the church building and suddenly felt overwhelmed - a mood that usually leads directly to some sort of expression on paper for me :-) That thought having passed, I sat outside of church on a granite slab taking notes on some of my meager thoughts. The result is what's posted below, When it Rained. Lastly, I feel compelled to say that it's wonderful to have almost all of the burden of school from this past year lifted off of my shoulders for a time. I'm really looking forward to this Summer and I hope this will once again inspire some creativity within my soul :-) More to follow, more to come...

~ Jon ~

When it Rained

You’ve captured my heart,
I can never turn back,
To being normal me,
You’ve filled what I lack.

Our road travels on,
Many stories are told,
But the ones about you,
Just never grow old.

That when you sang,
All the times that you ran;
All times when you smile,
I remember I can…

These days were so sweet,
Mem’ries I hold dear,
Life simply was fun,
With you somewhere near.

But clouds then rolled in,
In – evit – able,
Sorrow tempered my joy,
I felt my heart strings pull.

I recall now the rain,
How it poured when you fell,
Like God weeping tears,
How I said all’s well…

My outside looked fine,
But inside I wept too,
I longed for those days to return,
My only wish is to hold you.

They think my life’s fine,
But they don’t see inside,
Your part of me was torn,
Ripped away – and I cried.

I wept not for me,
My heart’s used to pain,
But for the times that we had,
When I used to hear your voice in the rain…

(Please,) Bring her back again…

Silent Euphonic Melodies

One day, while listening to a beautiful offertory being played by pinao and flute, I suddenly had an epiphany. They don't happen often and they usually don't go very deep , but the strangest thought struck me, and became an instant source of fascination. The flutist was mic-ed really close; close enough to pick out her rapid breaths in between lines of music. Normally, I don't notice coughs, or breaths or other really small, potentially distracting fascits of music; however, for some reason, her breaths just stuck out to me as I was listening. I wasn't distracted by her breathing, rather, the entire performance was enhanced for this reason: I realized that the beautiful music being played depends SOLELY on those breaths - it seems so obvious, but without that breathing, there's no way that such beautiful music could be rendered. Just listening to breathing, whether it's the breath before a Louis Armstrong blast, the sweet sound of a singer drawing in the power to create the sounds of angels, or the rapid breaths of Mojo as he raps...I find myself amazed at the simple beauty of that sound - especially knowing that without breath, that beauty and creativity is impossible. It's quite a thought, and it was inspiring to me...enjo:y A Euphony of Breath.

~ Jon ~


A Euphony of Breath

A sleek harmonious language,
Spoken through music’s magicians,
A breath taken, hushed silence,
The artist cast her spell.

Transport to another world,
Riding on a crested wave,
A deep breath before the plunge,
Warm notes she then twirled.

With a lovely breath she plays her song,
I sit to watch, to listen, and hear,
The peaceful noise of one breath breathed,
Her lovely voice staid and strong.

The note was held, wondrous, long,
A rich sound and deep as oceans,
It pierced and shattered, warmed and calmed,
One clear note righted my heart’s wrong.

Her music held to glorious end,
Four measures completed,
With a fullness left to sing,
Her eyes traveled the next line to tend.

A thought of preparation passed,
She rose, inhaled and gained th’ pow’r,
Holding within the life of song,
Her lovely spell again she cast.

On she sang enchanting to the end,
Her song’s life ebbed and faded,
But lived again with every breath she drew,
Its power I thought my heart would rend.

The audience sat edged on their seats,
Song’s apex reached she drew once more,
I marveled at such simple charm,
Once more she took me down that blissful street.

She smiled again and sang her symphony,
Lifting her voice, descanting the finale,
She captured all with power of song,
But held my heart with her breath’s sweet euphony.