MY STUMBLING PEN

My stumbling pen spills not the wealth I feel

Striving to find a way into the light;

Such treasures as my soul longs to reveal

Lie buried in the deep subconscious night.

How frequently a fleeting inward glance

Detects a glimmer of elusive lode,

And I rebel with each escaping chance

To mine a thought and coin it in an ode.

Oh surely since I know the vein is there,

I cannot be content until I find

A way to reach the distant regions where

Those golden thoughts are waiting to be mined;

And should a nugget tumble from my pen,

I'll tap the treasury again, again!

****

GOD IS THERE

Today the sky was tall and wide,

But when the evening came

I watched it bending near to spill

A mass of scarlet flame.

Then as it burned across the west

I breathed an humble prayer;

Since beauty was so manifest

I knew that God was there.

I know a friend whose life is tall

As that sky was today,

Who bends to spill the flame of love

Along a hardened way;

A life as colorful and warm

As sunset tinted air,

And as I watch it glowing, Oh,

I know that God is there.

****

OUR LITTLE LIVES

When night plows purple furrows

Or day dawns, washed and clean,

When fields of grain are bending

Or lightening flares supreme;

When rainbows arch the airways

Or flaming comets fall,

I marvel that God should bother

With our little lives at all.

****

NONE SHALL FALL

I stopped to watch a tuft of cloud

That scudded through the sky,

And suddenly I saw a small

Grey feather wafting by.

I looked about with eager eyes,

But no bird was in sight;

Could he have fallen to the ground?

But then, I read last night

That not one falls upon the ground

When God is unaware.

I also read that on our heads

He numbers every hair!

If God is with each downy bird

That flits from cloud to tree,

And we are more than sparrows, Oh

How safe, how safe are we!

****

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