Unloading: a rough poem

15 09 2012

Time stolen. Intensity. Breathlessness.
Glances. Unbidden tears. Wide smiles.
A too-small space, with closeness forced.
Closed eyes, open ears, full but wondering mind.

The difficulty was always holding back,
Staying in the present,
Not letting things get ahead of themselves.
But the frustration is constant, often.


Knowing so much and yet so little
It’s dragging me down
Squeezing me shut
Wringing me out

A decision will need to be made —
The passion too soon to fade.


Say “No” to peace

14 07 2009

Say “No” to peace
if what they mean by peace
is the quiet misery of hunger,
the frozen stillness of fear,
the silence of broken spirits,
the unborn hopes of the oppressed.

Tell them that peace
is the shouting of children at play,
the babble of tongues set free,
the thunder of dancing feet,
and a father’s voice singing.

Say “No” to peace,
if what they mean by peace
is a rampart of gleaming missiles,
the arming of distant wars,
money at ease in its castle,
and grateful poor at the gate.

Tell them that peace
is the hauling down of flags,
the forging of guns into ploughs,
the giving of fields to the landless,
and hunger a fading dream.

– Brian Wren


Ah, poetry

30 03 2008

Because being the way we were made to be is a beautiful thing, and something that makes us smile, and feel right with the world… the poem is something of the way I feel tonight, and sums up some of what I’ve been thinking about over the course of this week. There have been bad times, but there have also been the fresh breezes of knowing who God is to me, and what He does in my life, every day.

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee;
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company;
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
– William Wordsworth (1770 – 1850)


And speaking of the way we were made, I’ve not been listening to Christian music recently because it’s been really bothering me, but this song by Chris Tomlin still touches me:

Caught in the half-light, I’m caught alone
Waking up to the sunrise and the radio
Feels like I’m tied up, what’s holding me?
Just praying today will be the day I go free

I want to live like there’s no tomorrow
I want to dance like no one’s around
I want to sing like nobody’s listening
Before I lay my body down
I want to give like I have plenty
I want to love like I’m not afraid
I want to be the man I was meant to be
I want to be the way I was made

Made in Your likeness, made with Your hands
Made to discover who You are and who I am
All I’ve forgotten help me to find
All that You’ve promised let it be in my life

And the line, “made to discover who You are and who I am” resonates within me because that’s what I yearn for: to know who I am in God’s creation, in relation to Him, and who He is.

Love God
Love people
Follow Jesus

Share your music

29 02 2008


Share Your Music

God gave us each our own music
and the world to be our stage
but most of us are living
with our music still unplayed

This gift that we are given
is ours to use if we dare
it is our greatest tool
to show how much we care

“Martin” shared his music
gave us all a dream
his message was very simple
“Let Freedom Ring”

“John” stood up and played his music
the song he shared was true
“Don’t ask your country to make things right
ask instead what YOU can do”

A diminutive committed lady
so fragile and so weak
“Teresa” touched every nation
each time that she would speak

A simple comic and actor
he shared his special song
“Bob” lifted up our spirits
from World War II to Vietnam

One song was sung so long ago
that’s been shared throughout the years
a “Carpenter” gave His music
that will save all those who hear

Your music has the power
our futures in our hands
never doubt that words can change the world
it’s the only thing that ever has

-Jim Serviolo

I’m sick

25 01 2008


I have a cold. I expect it was the stuffiness of Starbucks last night, and the cold, rain and lack of sleep in general over the past couple of weeks. I feel about a million years old this evening, especially when I contemplate just how much I need to do this weekend in order to be on par (kind of, even). There’s Set 3 Listening to go through, Paper 1A to mark, essays from Set 3 to correct, Paper 2 Mock Exams to write, and the plethora of reading that needs to be got through before Monday’s lecture… ad infinitum…

I miss the days when I used to sleep in and not give half a tomato who I needed to meet, or what I needed to do. The price of being grown up now, I suppose. Although I don’t feel grown up.

I got told I was a religious chick last night; what the heck does that mean?!

But I’m looking forward to Solid Rock tomorrow. We’ll be watching a movie. Perhaps I’ll plug up my nostrils so my nose doesn’t run. Now that I think of it, the last couple of times I came down with pretty bad colds was the day after Solid Rock. Dang.

I was reading Donald Miller’s book again tonight (when am I going to finish reading it? It’s great reading and really insightful and I’ve learned a lot from it, but boy, do I read it slowly. I can’t think why, either) and he said something that blew me away: the people who met Jesus and knew Him personally couldn’t help but love being with Him and around Him, and if this kind of love, which is felt and received, was less articulated and watered down, the love would move the hardest of hearts. If we were a people who could speak uncomfortable truths into the world, and still go around loving people to the point of being willing to die for them, then magical stuff would happen, magical stuff like real love that is warmth and light and doesn’t pretend to be something it’s not.

Love is Enough

Love is enough: though the World be a-waning,
And the woods have no voice but the voice of complaining,
    Though the sky be too dark for dim eyes to discover
The gold-cups and daisies fair blooming thereunder,
Though the hills be held shadows, and the sea a dark wonder,
    And this day draw a veil over all deeds pass’d over,
Yet their hands shall not tremble, their feet shall not falter;
The void shall not weary, the fear shall not alter
    These lips and these eyes of the loved and the lover.

-William Morris