A place for POEM'S or other inspirations

Place for books, articles, and websites with content that connect or detail Anabaptist theology
KingdomBuilder
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Re: A place for POEM'S or other inspirations

Post by KingdomBuilder »

thebluffs wrote:
RZehr wrote:That comes straight from a parent.
Good guess, but that one was written at about 3am one evening/morning for a friend of mine
Heartfelt and authentic nonetheless
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RZehr
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Re: A place for POEM'S or other inspirations

Post by RZehr »

thebluffs wrote:
RZehr wrote:That comes straight from a parent.
Good guess, but that one was written at about 3am one evening/morning for a friend of mine
Your friend isn't a parent?
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KingdomBuilder
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Re: A place for POEM'S or other inspirations

Post by KingdomBuilder »

Haste me through the valley of affliction;
fix my eyes on perfect light
Past the mists of mighty desolation
to the billows 'round thy heights.

Step by step, sweet Savior, do keep me
till first breath of Zion's air,
Guided by the shadow of thy figure
will I rise and greet thee there.

Darkest hour, what then is left within thee
when His radiance comes to shine?
When he lifts the veil of thy deception,
perfect rest and peace be mine.
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KingdomBuilder
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Re: A place for POEM'S or other inspirations

Post by KingdomBuilder »

Jehovah, our great King, whose all-powerful hand
led us each from Egypt's gripping might,
light our lamps, shod our feet, in the wilderness' sand
keep us through to the end of Earth's night.

Flood the land with the Truth of thy holy command;
with the oil anointed by thee.
Give us help to, with strength, show our lost fellow man
the way to heaven's eternity.

Send thy hope, Spirit; peace to the ears of the dead
let them hear that which never does end;
of thy merciful love, and thy Son who doth tread
near each one who on you does depend.
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KingdomBuilder
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Re: A place for POEM'S or other inspirations

Post by KingdomBuilder »

KingdomBuilder wrote:Jehovah, our great King, whose all-powerful hand
led us each from Egypt's gripping might,
light our lamps, shod our feet, in the wilderness' sand
keep us through to the end of Earth's night.

Flood the land with the Truth of thy holy command;
with the oil anointed by thee.
Give us help to, with strength, show our lost fellow man
the way to heaven's eternity.

Send thy hope, Spirit; peace to the ears of the dead
let them hear that which never does end;
of thy merciful love, and thy Son who doth tread
near each one who on you does depend.
I just realized this doesn't read too well on its own, but it goes quite nicely to 12.9.12.9 D... :) Guess this should fall into the "hymn" category then.
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temporal1
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Re: A place for POEM'S or other inspirations

Post by temporal1 »

From another thread ..
lesterb wrote:
The push to agree with or fit into the mainstream of anything is fraud with danger for the Christian. My motto has been a little like the one portrayed in this poem. Not all of that has been by choice.

The Road Not Taken
BY ROBERT FROST
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
what writing. sigh.
from another R Frost poem -
.. .. he (Frost) means us to register the contrast between the technical word and the presumed simplicity of the countryside.
Frost, though he may have run a farm, is clearly more than a farmer;
he is, just below the surface, a freethinker, an intellectual.
That is why reading him rightly means being alert to Frost’s sly subversions of his own image.

He (Frost) hid himself in his legend in just the same way that the animal hides in his poem
“A Drumlin Woodchuck”:

My own strategic retreat
Is where two rocks almost meet,
And still more secure and snug,
A two-door burrow I dug.

With those in mind at my back
I can sit forth exposed to attack,
As one who shrewdly pretends
That he and the world are friends.
:-| the piece continues. but, again, what writing.

when i think of Robert Frost, i think of Carl Sandburg.
we must have studied them at the same time in school.

i often wonder if the world will ever again see the writing greats of the past?

today’s education seems to be so eager to “inform” (regarding agenda;) it seems more killing of creative spirit is accomplished, rather than allowed, or nurtured. there is a great race to control children’s brains (and, thus, their future votes.) :( it’s really a sort of nightmare for me. :(

this might be a clue about how things are changing.
i.e., the change in approach to responding to life:
.. .. TO COAX the poet out of his retreat takes tact and caution; it means reading him not as a prosecutor but as an interpreter .. ..
the world seems set on creating dogmatic prosecutors. this is not a healthy atmosphere to produce either scientists or artists.

o.how i hope i’m mistaken. :)

above quotes from
https://harvardmagazine.com/2014/01/ext ... -woodchuck
warning about the quoted article.
it begins with a paragraph or so about something written by Joyce Carol Oates (which i would prefer to live without) .. but, overall, it’s an interesting piece on R Frost.
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KingdomBuilder
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Re: A place for POEM'S or other inspirations

Post by KingdomBuilder »

Death to death through He who is in us
Bury them deep,
Desires venomous

Walk no more in the wake of sins past
Turn, turn your feet
to Jehovah, run fast.

Be risen, come alive
as Jesus did do.
All things are
and shall be, eternally,
New
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Wade
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Re: A place for POEM'S or other inspirations

Post by Wade »

The battle rages on:

With each blow I must brace for more,
The enemy feirce with his darts,
My heart cries stop the gore,
But more it starts,
I hit my knees,
Oh my Lord please,
And their it is He grants the power,
Without a cower,
Help me Lord to bless,
And to stop being careless,
Overcoming with good will effect eternity,
Warfare is an ugly place you see,
But it's the lot of running The race,
Please Lord I need your grace!
Before I believed,
Your Son gave His life,
The most precious gift now received,
An end to the old way of strife,
Lord your will be done as in heaven,
May I treat others remembering,
How much I have been forgiven,
Always extending a blessing,
It's the Lord way to win a fight,
And we know He is always right.
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francis
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Re: A place for POEM'S or other inspirations

Post by francis »

In Memoriam by Alfred Lord Tennyson (1849):

Strong Son of God, immortal Love,
Whom we, that have not seen thy face,
By faith, and faith alone, embrace,
Believing where we cannot prove;

Thine are these orbs of light and shade;
Thou madest Life in man and brute;
Thou madest Death; and lo, thy foot
Is on the skull which thou hast made.

Thou wilt not leave us in the dust:
Thou madest man, he knows not why,
He thinks he was not made to die;
And thou hast made him: thou art just.

Thou seemest human and divine,
The highest, holiest manhood, thou.
Our wills are ours, we know not how;
Our wills are ours, to make them thine.

Our little systems have their day;
They have their day and cease to be:
They are but broken lights of thee,
And thou, O Lord, art more than they.

We have but faith: we cannot know;
For knowledge is of things we see
And yet we trust it comes from thee,
A beam in darkness: let it grow.

Let knowledge grow from more to more,
But more of reverence in us dwell;
That mind and soul, according well,
May make one music as before,

But vaster. We are fools and slight;
We mock thee when we do not fear:
But help thy foolish ones to bear;
Help thy vain worlds to bear thy light.

Forgive what seem'd my sin in me;
What seem'd my worth since I began;
For merit lives from man to man,
And not from man, O Lord, to thee.

Forgive my grief for one removed,
Thy creature, whom I found so fair.
I trust he lives in thee, and there
I find him worthier to be loved.

Forgive these wild and wandering cries,
Confusions of a wasted youth;
Forgive them where they fail in truth,
And in thy wisdom make me wise.
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temporal1
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Re: A place for POEM'S or other inspirations

Post by temporal1 »

August:
My grdaughter and i have been singing this song from OKLAHOMA! .. as we’ve driven through Michigan cornfields. :D
She doesn’t see much corn growing near seattle.

i told her i think the lyrics are just so pleasing and happy. someone had the gift to write those words! :D
“There’s a bright golden haze on the meadow” .. :D so beautiful.


Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin' / Song by Gordon MacRae

There's a bright golden haze on the meadow
There's a bright golden haze on the meadow
The corn is as high as an elephant's eye
And it looks like it's climbing clear up to the sky

Oh, what a beautiful mornin'
Oh, what a beautiful day
I got a beautiful feelin'
Every thing's goin' my way

All the cattle are standing like statues
All the cattle are standing like statues
They don't turn their heads as they see me ride by
But a little brown maverick is winkin' her eye

Oh, what a beautiful mornin'
Oh, what a beautiful day
I got a beautiful feelin'
Every thing's goin' my way

All the sounds of the earth are like music
All the sounds of the earth are like music
The breeze is so busy it don't miss a tree
And an old weepin' willow is laughin' at me

Oh, what a beautiful mornin'
Oh, what a beautiful day
I got a beautiful feelin'
Every thing's goin' my way

Source: Musixmatch
Songwriters: Oscar Hammerstein Ii / Richard Rodgers
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Most or all of this drama, humiliation, wasted taxpayer money could be spared -
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