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| Poems in the Field |
| THIS IS ALL THAT I CAN DO By Filly Unwinding the thread of life Loneliness and hapiness all roll into one Trying to hide away I don't want to face it Hoping it'll just go away I have no stregth at all Here I am, thrown back into reality Aching and gasping for air This is all that I can do Believing that You're always there Trusting everything unto You Here I am, on my knees As I call upon Your name my heart begins to heal I could feel Your hands on my shoulder And tears rolling down on my cheek Realizing He loves me so... This is all that I can do God, please help me to understand everything wisely The TREE OF LIFE By Sonja Peterson and Martha Miranda © 1993 The tree of life What can be said about the tree of life? We know that it stands Within the very paradise of God And who is it for For those who've gone before? Or is it for you? Is it for me? In days of old the tree of life Was taken back by God It was guarded by a flaming sword Guarded by the very word of God But Father Shallum has brought the living tree Back down again to men The first seeds yielding forth The bread of life within The Tree of Life begotten by the LORD Has been promised To those who are looking for Him And for His new Name We know that the tree She stands in the Holy City The new Jerusalem that's coming down Coming down, coming down from God She stands in the Holy City Giving forth Her daily bread And hidden in Her branches Within Her fruit is immortality And Her leaves of the tree Are for the healing of all nations And there is no more curse in Her The living tree is given to all men The LAMB shall be there in the City With His Holy FATHER We shall serve Him And we shall see Him face to face What can compare to this holy healing stream Of truth coming down that brings the victory? All glory to the Living Tree All glory to the Living Word What profit is it If we should gain the whole wide world And lose our own soul And then despise the Living Tree, the Living Word? O Lord lift us up high into the Tree of Life And wrap us up tight Within Her holy branches Her holy seeds to become Back to Trixie's Forest |
| BRIGHT STAR By John Keats Bright star! would I were steadfast as thou art-- Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night, And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like Nature's patient sleepless Eremite, The moving waters at their priestlike task Of pure ablution round earth's human shores, Or gazing on the new soft fallen mask Of snow upon the mountains and the moors-- No--yet still steadfast, still unchangeable, Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast, To feel for ever its soft fall and swell, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever--or else swoon to death. HYMN TO THE NIGHT by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow I heard the trailing garments of the Night Sweep through her marble halls! I saw her sable skirts all fringed with light From the celestial walls! I felt her presence, by its spell of might, Stoop o'er me from above; The calm, majestic presence of the Night, As of the one I love. I heard the sounds of sorrow and delight, The manifold, soft chimes, That fill the haunted chambers of the Night, Like some old poet's rhymes. From the cool cisterns of the midnight air My spirit drank repose; The fountain of perpetual peace flows there,-- From those deep cisterns flows. O holy Night! from thee I learn to bear What man has borne before! Thou layest thy finger on the lips of Care And they complain no more. Peace! Peace! Orestes-like I breathe this prayer! Descend with broad-winged flight, The welcome, the thrice-prayed for, the most fair, The best-beloved Night! SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY by George Gordon, Lord Byron She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies. One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o'er her face; Where thoughts serenely sweet express How pure, how dear their dwelling place. And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent! |