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Alyssa Underwood May 2017
I saw a path and ran ahead
I nearly lost my way
Your mercy caught me by the arm
To Your side You bid me stay

I put my hope in my own plans
Which soon around me fell
You stopped me short upon that road
And said, "Rest and all will be well."

I'd surrendered all, but to my foe
Enticed into the briars
You turned his evil schemes instead
Into refining fires

I couldn't see my helplessness
Until my legs were broken
Till Shepherd's hands caressed my wounds
And healing words were spoken

You picked me up and carried me
And made me feel Your favorite
You held my head against Your chest
Until I grew to savor it

You tended me with gentlest touch
Then soothed all thought of fears
You sang forgiveness over me
And washed away my tears

There is no one like You, Lord
On whom I can rely
In loss, in danger or attack
You hear this poor sheep's cry

It's You Who keeps me from real harm
Who watches my coming and going
You shield me with Your strong right hand
From darts the enemy keeps throwing

You said to all who trust in You
You would give perfect peace
Enough for mind and heart to rest
To let all worrying cease

So, Lord, I trust You with my life
Your Shepherd's heart is pure
Your purpose for me's guarded well
And Your deliverance is sure

Please teach this sheep, Lord, how to wait
And strengthen me to stand
To put my hope in Your desires
And to love Your sovereign plan

You lead me into fields so green
Where streams of life are flowing
Where healing winds blow oft' and strong
And choicest fruits are growing

You set me free to hear Your voice
To follow at Your call
And even through the dark, cold nights
I'll know You've arranged it all

Yes, storms will come with battering rains
With hail and gusts and thunder
But these are meant to beckon me
To Your wings to pull me under

For it's in the darkness of the storm
My grip's most apt to tighten
And when my heart beats next to Yours
All earthly burdens lighten
~~~
David R Jun 2018
Round about is deep black darkness,
Darker than the blackest night,
Whispering deep 'n dreadful murmurs.
Bird dropped dead in midflight.

Blind and weeping, lifeless attle,
What you see is your own soul,
Burnt and weary from the battle.
Disenchanted from its goal.

In the ash, a spark she smoulders,
Crackling, rasping, wounded warrior,
Briars squeeze her neck and shoulders,
Suffocating in smog-fill'd air.

Deep within stagnating water,
Crystal-clear elixir tear,
Rippling movement, life astir,
Phoenix rises from the slaughter.

Still she rises, Golden Daughter,
Fears no longer yonder fright,
Strength within from those who fought Her,
Blackest night turned brightest light.
Alyssa Underwood Nov 2015
I saw a path and ran ahead
I nearly lost my way
Your mercy caught me by the arm
To Your side You bid me stay

I put my hope in my own plans
Which soon around me fell
You stopped me short upon that road
And said, "Rest and all will be well."

I'd surrendered all, but to my foe
Enticed into the briars
You turned his evil schemes instead
Into refining fires

I couldn't see my helplessness
Until my legs were broken
Till Shepherd's hands caressed my wounds
And healing words were spoken

You picked me up and carried me
And made me feel Your favorite
You held my head against Your chest
Until I grew to savor it

You tended me with gentlest touch
Then soothed all thought of fears
You sang forgiveness over me
And washed away my tears

There is no one like You, Lord
On whom I can rely
In loss, in danger or attack
You hear this poor sheep's cry

It's You Who keeps me from real harm
Who watches my coming and going
You shield me with Your strong right hand
From darts the enemy keeps throwing

You said to all who trust in You
You would give perfect peace
Enough for mind and heart to rest
To let all worrying cease

So, Lord, I trust You with my life
Your Shepherd's heart is pure
Your purpose for me's guarded well
And Your deliverance is sure

Please teach this sheep, Lord, how to wait
And strengthen me to stand
To put my hope in Your desires
And to love Your sovereign plan

You lead me into fields so green
Where streams of life are flowing
Where healing winds blow oft' and strong
And choicest fruits are growing

You set me free to hear Your voice
To follow at Your call
And even through the dark, cold nights
I'll know You've arranged it all

Yes, storms will come with battering rains
With hail and gusts and thunder
But these are meant to beckon me
To Your wings to pull me under

For it's in the darkness of the storm
My grip's most apt to tighten
And when my heart beats next to Yours
All earthly burdens lighten
Tom Spencer Jul 2015
I had not been born yet.
Still, I can see you at your labor -
alone, scouring the meadows
for the stones -
lifting their gray shoulders
from the moist earth -
pulling them from the
green grasp of briars,
goldenrod, and
Queen Anne’s Lace.

The smell of the earth
must have filled you with
your own childhood memories -
of plowing fields
and cold mornings
trudging across barn yards
mud thick on your boots -
promising yourself
that someday you would leave
and never return.

I can hear the pick axe -
the sharp strikes
against the stones,
and the dull thud
when the earth
swallowed the blade -
and the deep exhalations
when the stones tumbled into
the old wheelbarrow – new then -
that now leans rusting
against my garden shed.

Some of the stones were so large -
far too large for one man –
how did you move them?
I look at the old photographs
and you seem so young –
so much younger
than I am today - and so thin –
staring off-frame beyond the camera.
What were you looking for
in those fields?

I can see you sorting the stones,
stacking them -
building and unbuilding
and rebuilding the walls
and  terraces
until the walls were true
and the terraces level
and planted with dogwood,
birches, soft grass for bare feet,
and bordered with roses.

Did you know
that you were building my castle?
That the highest terrace
would be my tower and keep?
I remember calling out to my
knights, my legionnaires,
and tribesmen –
rallying them in defense
of the citadel –  ready for
the coming siege.

I also remember looking out
across that verdant kingdom
for the last time -
no longer a king or a boy –
and miles away, across the river
to the west, I imagined
the new home that awaited us.
I couldn’t know
how far away it would be
or what it meant to leave.

This morning,
as I looked out across
the garden that I have built,
I felt the weightlessness of time
and its gravity
settling me into place.
For a brief moment I had
the sensation that I was standing
on the shoulders of
gathered stones.

(for my father, Guy Spencer.)
Tom Spencer © 2015
Cassidy Aug 2018
I dreamt of you the other day
I woke up with your scent lingering in the linens, where I laid
And my chest broke all over again, as it does
You could never love me again, love.
My weary heart has since used my body weary too,
And I am briars of what used to be a garden, owned only by you

— The End —