Love Made Manifest (Britain)
(C.S. Lewis’ House, The Kilns)
It wasn’t a shrine; it was love made manifest.
So much time had passed,
the Lewis household.
Periwinkle blue,
on the bright umbrellas.
Living, sounds.
“What’s life? My life.” The discourse
goes on and on.
Love made manifest.
The gate, and what about the gate?
Humes, they swallow further than I’d like them.
As I said, the winter came all too soon.
Flush and swallow, they meet me here each morning,
To meet me in the hollow of the morning.
Grace is perfect.
Wine, comradery, and the witch
have taken up my mind.
“And forth come oft.”
Wind and solitude,
and rest they will,
it’s more than earth and sod.
You’re almost there,
let me reach to touch you
Once more.
The Little Yellow Bee (Britain)
(At The Kilns)
The little yellow bee; how small and sweet.
I firmly believe that as much as I can see,
You have no way of knowing
The call of the wild bird morning after morning.
The morning sky shall greet your day.
The Plumb Line
Think of a plumb line
as the chalk that is placed
on the ground
in one continuous line.
That line represents Truth,
the Person.
Anything that falls
to the ground
in a parallel line,
that doesn’t follow
the plumb line,
is not Truth.
Some people
would like to believe
that a ‘white lie’ is
not a lie at all, but
a means to an end.
I’m here to say that
Truth is truth,
no matter how I ‘lay it down.’
My Double Mind
(This is for Youth)
Realizing that
what I would like to do
and what I do
are two different things,
I envision myself
calling
or writing the public,
making a plug
or being helpful.
Yet I feel that
my contribution
is not so significant.
That what I do
doesn’t matter.
But the truth is
always different for me:
I think one thing
and the reality is
so much more encouraging.
I believe
that one thing
is a failure,
and it turns out
to make the biggest success.
It happens
over and over.
I want to meditate
and dream about the things
that You have put in my hand to do.
That not for myself a success
but because that one thing
You have put in my hand to do
will make all the difference.
The Battle
Too many to hold,
our countrymen.
‘Lost in a battle,
too heavy to stand.’
Might and power is
seen to the right;
harmony reigns.
We wait, we travel.
Many are broken.
I stand in the gate.
Horrible injustice
and forgiveness
doesn’t remain.
Only the feeble hold to it.
I stand and rise!