You’ve Taken the Hand of a Homeless Man

You wonder as you wander the streets
Where to go as you hear the hard beats
Of your heart like some roadside band
And you find some stranger in this land

He says he knows every twist and turn
And so his words make your heart burn
Because you’re lost and tempest-tossed
So you trust him and gladly thrust ahead

You’ve taken the hand of a homeless man
Hoping this vagabond has the right plan
Praying this vagabond has the right plan

He takes you over hills and thru valleys
Down alleys and onto great sea galleys
And you begin to question if he knows
As the wind blows through all he shows

You’ve taken the hand of a homeless man
Hoping this vagabond has the right plan
Praying this vagabond has the right plan

He leads you to the mountains so high
And never leaves, never says ‘goodbye’
And he promises streets made of gold
Are in store for you if you remain bold

This man without any home . . .

You’ve taken the hand of a homeless man
(Yeah, taken the hand of a homeless man)
Hoping this vagabond has the right plan
Praying this vagabond has the right plan

And he promises streets made of gold
Are in store for you if you remain bold

But you’ve taken the hand of a homeless man
Yeah, taken the hand of this homeless man . . .
Taken the hand . . . of the homeless man

Journey of Psyche and Her Redeemer

How I know you love me is to be with me constantly;
And how I long to belong to you as you long for me,
But through many trials we each must pass for love,
Like Psyche and Cupid of ancient lore, who did more
For union of Love and Soul than the whole pantheon
Of gods and goddesses, but our own takes us higher
And we must never tire in the travail of communion,
As I remember how you rescued me and brought me
Into green pastures beside still waters to there abide
Till I found my strength once again and to begin again
To live, and more, for you to lavish me with affection
In perfection of compassionate passion day and night,
Under the light of both moon and the sun, but so soon
Did the Serpent bite and his might I could not resist,
So now we persist in drawing out the hideous poison
That separates us, yet in the frustration of tribulation
As we seek purgation there is only an inflation of love;
Ah! But my very soul is vexed with worry and distress
As I long for you to again be with me ever constantly;
And when will this end, except Father God command
And demand an ending to this strife so rife with pain?
Let the Almighty One speak now for the meek ‘n lowly,
And then we shall enjoy union in eternal communion!

Something Has Changed, Something Strange

Something has changed inside you, something strange
Over the whole range of your person, now rearranged,
Yet you smile the same way and walk through the day
Just as you always have, but it’s as if you have cried
For the last time and somehow have now died inside;
So as we walk side by side now and talk as we have,
There is only your shell, your inner-well has run dry;
And try as I might the sight is not the same, not really;
You are present, persisting in existing, but with no life;
Is this just the gyration my imagination, or is it true?
Did your spirit finally break for the sake of survival?
And is there is no hope of revival? Are you living dead?
Something has changed inside you, something strange;
Yes, something vital has changed you are not the same

Prayer of the Damned

In the blackest of nights from the cauldron of darkness
I cry to you as I lie prostrate on the ground surrounded
By harrowing sounds, shrill shrieks from depths of hell,
And plead for redemption, restoration, an incantation
For my salvation in gravitation to heavenly habitation,
But sulfur vapor clouds around with dancing dæmons
And prancing wraiths, romancing my soul with bowls
Of precious poison, but will you hear my call so drear?
Will you come near and hold me dear while they sear
And jeer in frightful delight where there’s now no light?
Is it too late for pitiful me because I took the devil’s bait
Rather than wait on you? But you knew he was shrewd
And I so weak, though not humble and meek, and sick!
Lo, the wick burns out as I dare offer my parting prayer;
Will you save or shall I descend to the cave of Hades?

Prayer of the Called

Do you want me to help heal the brokenhearted?
To bind up wounds and to announce your favor?
To set free those long in the prison of darkness?
Oh, this broken vessel, Lord, and very tarnished!
Are you picking up all the pieces
To make of me what I think I see?
I would be a salvaged wreck preaching to saints!
And you know I traveled down that road before,
When I was younger and prideful and so selfish;
And what legacy did I leave behind me but ashes?
And do you want to use me now, Lord? Even me?
Oh God! You have saved me from certain death;
You know you can do with me what you please,
But what church would accept me as a shepherd?
Ah! But I believe in you and what you want to do,
Only give me a sure and certain sign of your will;
For here am I; I will go wherever you send me . . .

Chasing (After the Wind)

Pacing myself
Racing to find you

I hunt you down in the alleyways of my mind,
But I can’t find you there; where are you now?
I crawl in the corridors of my heart and bawl;
Have you left me bereft of all love from above?

Pacing myself
Racing to find you

I peek in every corner of my soul as I seek you;
I am faint ‘n weak; can you hear my complaint?
Around every corner I expect to see you, true?
And you are there, too, somewhere like the air!

Pacing myself
Racing to find you

Searching, reaching, teaching myself patience;
Lunging ahead, plunging down under for you,
I give all of myself to fall again into your arms,
To see your emerald eyes so clearly, so dearly!

Racing to find you
Pacing myself

Cry for Me Crying for You

Ah! My love! Cry for me crying for you
So emotionally bruised and confused;
You have been used and misused now
For so long you think it’s where you belong,
But how wrong you are! O sing a new song!
Take my tears and wash your face
And embrace a brand new reality
In finality of chasing what is base!
Ah! My dear! You pull tears from my eyes
As I spy him round every corner, lurking,
Knowing he’s bound to hurt you yet again
But you can’t see the sin ‘n you never win!
Oh my God, my God! You call his hate love
And I cry above to every angel who’ll hear
To steer you away from this dark delusion
And I know they care but can they repair?
Can they repair the damage already done
Under sun, moon and stars so far away?
No! No! You pop his pill
And then lay so very still
To bask in sleepy fantasy
To mask a very real pain!
What do you gain, then, save stain of guilt
And remorse ‘cause you took that course?
O can you not see and finally be free?
Or do you rather enjoy your chains?
Are you so insane that
You’ve slain your heart?
Ah! My love! Cry for me crying for you
So emotionally bruised and confused!
Cry for me crying for you to be so true,
So true to yourself to finally be free . . .
Ah! My love! Cry for me crying for you

Note: It must have been a better month for me than I knew at the time. Here is another poem previously published in November 2016, being republished now due to some renewed interest as well as for the enjoyment of new reader-followers. (And I’m very thankful to say that quite a few folks have decided to follow this blog just over the last few weeks! Thank you!)