Peace Was

Gunshots, cannons, loud alarms.
I quickly panic; swing my arm:
Down upon the button, smash!
And for a moment pause the clash.

Then a squall breaks out below,
I hear the children, there’s been snow.
They rush and yell, I want to sleep,
But my wife the blanket keeps.

I step out, the floor is hard,
And likely colder than my yard.
Shirt and pants, the jacket next,
Socks and boots, no time to rest.

Stepping out onto the lawn
My children rush, I slowly yawn.
The silence of a winter’s freeze,
Though not my bed, brings me ease.

11.1.19

Woodland Storm

Roots crisscross in blind display;

Quickly rain each crevice fills,

Feeling through the dirt and clay,

Giving life in joyous rills.

 

Sending creatures to their homes

In warmth to wait and listen –

Thunder laughs and slowly roams

To warn of lightning’s glisten.

 

Soon the storm from woodland flees;

Drops come dripping to the earth,

Breathing faint the gentle breeze

Filled with scents of life and mirth.

 

07.24.19

Seasons

The heat is here and men work hard to live.

They hope the year will quickly have an end,

And spring will come with rain and joy to give,

But now all life feels cursed and won’t relent.

 

In fall the life that dies and leaves this earth

Is gone for good till spring with joy returns.

The year will end as sadness turns to mirth,

But now the grass is gone and flower burns.

 

In dark the death is done, and trees are bare.

All life has left and cold has come to stay.

It seems that spring will ne’er again be here,

And life will fail before the new spring day.

 

The Spring has come and life returns at last!

The year is new and death is now the past.

 

04.19.12

True Spring

In Spring there is new life that is released;

It roars and flows and down the stream it runs.

Its breath has come and dreaded death has ceased,

Now turn and look the dawn is quickly come.

 

The lion wakes and roars upon the chase,

The world is clean and flowers now are grown,

The King of Kings is in his rightful place,

The quest is done – the ring is now o’er thrown.

 

But life is short and quickly ending is,

As withered fading grass at summer’s end.

The crawling creature, twisted serpent, lives

To see the King in bloodless body spent.

 

And yet in death is hope, though spring be iced,

For life returns upon the spring of Christ.

 

04.12.12