Your Love Washes Over Me

As I bang my head against the wall in the halls
Of this home, not my own; sigh and loudly cry,
Your compassion washes over me like waves
From rich love wider and deeper than the sea,
And you had no bed, nowhere to lay your head,
But you’ve said you will take care of my needs,
Sowing seeds of faith that grow ever so slowly
As you provide my daily bread, day after day,
And remind me I do have somewhere to stay,
And so what shall I say? And how can I repay?
I say ‘thank you,’ as I bathe me in love so true,
Which canopies over me like the skies so blue!


Expressions of Love

O my Beloved! I will love you forever and ever more every day
Along the way of the life you have given me in you and for you
As yours throughout the hours of light and each ‘n every night
With no fright or evil thought of flight, but to behold your sight
In the moments of time and eternity, for you love me with love
In everlasting, passionate compassion, understanding and care,
At once like mother with child so mild and, also, like the lover,
Who hovers and covers me with deep and rich, sweet affection
Without any affectation, deflection or defection, dear Beloved;
So, too, I run to you and find the sun cannot outshine your love
From above, but dims by comparison, and so the moon so soon
To rise is but only your prize to give me as I live by you, in you
. . .
O my Beloved! I will love you forever and ever more every day
Along the way of the life you have given me in you and for you

And Heaven Weeps

Let compassion reign o’er malice as we drink from the chalice
Of love and peace from above, even in the face of vile rancor,
And may we stay the course set before us even when reviled,
And let us weep in keep with the tears of heaven for the child
Once meek and mild, now gone wild, where faith once lived
But now only ruins remain to mark the place of dead belief,
And may we pray for the day that hope is revived in his soul,
But above all, let us carry on in cadence with the song of truth
Under the banner of compassion every day along life’s way. . .
Though heaven may weep in keep with all the strain and pain
Of her pilgrim children marching onward through this world
To gain the Promise of the Ages from the torn pages of history

What Love Is . . .

Is love not gracious and living self-giving?
Can love be love apart from self-emptying?
Ah! What is it, then, to think of self first
And foremost while letting others thirst
For genuine, selfless affection that bursts
From a passionately compassionate heart
That puts others first in every part of life?
Yes, this turns modern thought on its head
And puts so much pop psychology to bed!
But let it not be said love is self-centered
When surely we have best been mentored
By those who chose to invest in the other;
Besides which, one learns to love oneself
When he has begun to truly love outside
Of self in an outpouring of adoring love,
For do we ever really learn who we are
Outside of company as our guiding star?
So let us love greatly, both near and far!

Note: This poem is largely in response to not only self-centeredness but also the ideology of radical individualism. It is an aesthetic statement in favor of communialism and the idea that one “finds oneself” within the context of community and, more specifically, that one experiences authentic love in ongoing reciprocity, which begins with the giving of oneself to the other.

You Brought Me Home

Wandering the wasteland with a nefarious band,
You came and found me and took me by the hand,
Led me across the desert sand and even carried me
When I could not stand, so much did you care for me,
And as I cried you dried my many tears
And I could hear you say, ‘I so love you,’
But I was silent and pliant as you tended to my scars
And promised to defend me always with compassion
In the passion of love from heaven above
And this was like treasure with pleasure!
Now I make my home with you so beautiful and true,
Never again to wander and wonder
Where to lay my head and make my bed,
And now I can truly say, ‘I love you, too!’
No more in the wasteland with some nefarious band,
No more . . . I am Home

Do Not Despair, There is Hope for Repair

Terrified soul curled up in the corner like a foreigner to life itself,
Your very own emotions have caused an unbelievable commotion
Inside your mind to bind you in confusion and rank desperation;
Ah! But there is reparation for all of your pain and your suffering,
And there is One who understands and cares, who can help you
Bear your burden, bringing bright light into your darkened spirit;
And there are many, many others who care and will help you bear
With piety your burden of overwhelming depression and anxiety;
You are not alone though you are prone to feel exactly this way . . .
But, maybe, you’ve not been shown that others’ll hear your groan
And respond in compassion, support, affection ‘n love from above;
Do not despair! There is help to repair your ill-damaged psyche!
Pray, pick up the phone and much-needed help will be on the way!

Suicide Prevention Hotline: 800-273-8255
Veterans Suicide Hotline: 800-273-8255
Domestic Violence Hotline: 800-799-7233

And The Child Shall Lead Them: Part III

Shall you lead us ore the trail of tears, through our fears in coming years,
As wicked men thrive while they deprive all love, and babies burn alive?
Shall you mend broken heart, extend mercy forgotten, and our wounds attend?
Are you too young for such responsibility without duplicity; pure nobility?
Are your hands strong for such demands while darkness and death expands
As innocent blood flows in Promised Land, while we watch with no reprimand?
Shall the Star misguide us afar, or will your boon be the crescent moon?

Spirit Dove, send us peace;
Let all the wars cease.
Spirit Dove, send us love;
Let it rain from above.

One there was who hunger fed, his own life bled; thorn-crown upon his head;
And how now shall you bear all concerns and care, my young Shepherdess fair,
When ore the ages even gods and sages have been slain in unthinkable pain?
When across the times dross-filled men have nailed such love to rugged cross?
Will you, but child meek and mild, seek truth free and wild, to be reviled
With nowhere to stay as friends turn away, and even family refuse to pray?
Are you thus strong to guide the throng; tend your sheep while so many weep?

Spirit Dove, send us peace;
Let all the wars cease.
Spirit Dove, send us love;
Let it rain from above.

When bullets fly and so many die, tears flood the alley-ways and your days
Are spent in relentless grace-chores no one adores; all your work abhors,
And you tire, well-spent; long for fire of funeral pyre; your eyes glaze,
Once dancing and laughing, prancing and clapping, will you backward gaze,
Long for brighter days? Or stay your heavenly course by strength of force
To be our source of inspiration in animation of peace, consolation, and light
Streaming from God to humanity against all calamity and such vile vanity?

Spirit Dove, send us peace;
Let all the wars cease.
Spirit Dove, send us love;
Let it rain from above.