Nature doesn’t need taming.
Though it isn’t safe
It was never wild, but
Mature and wise,
Seeking peace and balance.
This is Green Design.
Though from human thought
It is not about points and politics, but
Mature and wise,
Seeking peace and balance.
Pops 2009
The wind has no sound.
It brings to life the voices
Of those it affects
Pops 2008
I long to have faith like those of old,
Following the Way marked out
By the words in red and actions
Of black bound on my heart.
Being faithful is openly narrow.
There is no room to move,
Right or left is not an option,
Only ahead, for behind is death.
The old faith is a lot like other faith,
But foundationally different.
God came to us as a man
To help man understand God
As only He could explain.
Law was fulfilled in death,
Death was fulfilled in life,
Life is fulfilled in love.
The object of this faith is not
Of this world or really the next,
But only of Him who created both and
Waits, prepares, guides, hopes
For man to finally understand
What God has been saying in every
Birth, life, love, death
That happens each second of the day.
We have taken the wide road
And are running out of food and water,
At least the kind that quenches
And nourishes the souls of the weary
And dying without sustenance or hope.
Empty words are an endless desert
If they are not vindicated with action.
Pops 2009
What could be more delicate?
A thin globe of liquid hope,
Held together in an equilibrium dance
Of pressure, both from inside and outside.
Some last an unbelievable eternity,
Others barely leave the magic wand.
An odd mix of sadness and anticipation
Comes with the destruction of each.
Sometimes the glistening shell
Cracks of its own accord,
Releasing a shower of leftover spray
Covering all those in the path.
For most, a myriad of pointing fingers
Causes the gleeful mayhem.
The chorus of “more, more”
Rings in the ears of those watching
Until the attention turns away
And interest flees to the next game.
Pocket change replenishes
The soapy supply, yet the children,
And the child-like, hoard it as gold.
An irrational fear of bubbles
Is sadly created by dipping into
An insatiable love of liquidity.
Pops 2009
I heard today that you keep track
of the sleepless times I toss and turn
in a book.
I wonder at a God who is worthy
of all my trust
yet is compassionate enough to
add my worry up.
I heard today that you keep each
of my salty tears of sorrow
in a bottle.
I'm moved at a God who gives light
for all of life
yet is concerned enough to
measure my distress.
I heard today that you write down
my painful aches, body and heart
in your ledger.
I’m undone by a God who rescued me
from certain death
yet knows me well enough to
keep account of my hurting.
So I don't have to.
Pops 2009