Portland

Every evening as the sun sets over the rivers,
I hear the shopping carts rattle past,
Rattle, clink, rattle, clink, rattle, clink,
Shopping carts full of glass bottles
Going down the street, 
Finding a place to sleep.

In the morning, back they go,
Rattle, clink, rattle, clink, rattle, clink,
Over to Fred Meyer. Recycling.

Rattle Clink, Rattle Clink, Rattle Clink!
Rattle Clink, Rattle Clink, RATTLE CLINK!

And the city cries out in pain every night,
"I am myself!" it says, "I am unique"
"Let Me be ME." It cries with a
Voice of anguish, not knowing
What self means or who self is.

The cry is heard from the Barista
Who stands behind the counter.
And the waiter, who brings the beer.
From the woman at the check out
And the man who lives downstairs.
And the pain is real, intense, and hard,
Because all the time they cry out
"Let me be me." They are really asking,
"Who Am I?" And the question
Is
Still
Not Answered.....

Where the World Began

I want to know
Where the world began,
And what is in the tides.

I want to know
Why the song bird cries,
At the breaking of dawn's light.

Is there a place
Where the world was made,
When was it at first alive?

There is but One who
Can tell us true, when the world
Was made Alive, and
He Alone can let us know
When the light first shown
On the ocean's tides...

For He alone was there,
When the world was given life,
And He alone, the Three in One,
The God who made all life,
Began all things in days long past,
And breathed us into life.

My Pilgrimage

I am but a poor, weak, and weary
Traveler following onward the Way,
As I journey a hard and a wonderful path
Joyfully towards an Eternal Song
Where I will at last and forever Belong.

A sinner, a wife, a sister, a friend,
Ah, how I wish I were better!
And yet, in His Grace, God is
Leading me on, that I might be
Ready to join in the Song
That will one day be sung by the
Beautiful Throng, in that
Wonderful City where wrongs
Will be Righted, and Love will
Abide all the day long, in that
Awesome and Glorious Presence.

I am but a Pilgrim, one of the
Many, that follow God's Way on a
Path that is Narrow and Straight;
Yearning to show that God's Truth
Carries on, in the World that is
Crooked and Flawed by Disgrace
From the Ones who were Made
To Serve and to Rule over all
Our Creator has Made.

I am only a woman, seeking to know
What I might do in this world till
I go, to my Wonderful Gracious
And Lovingly Kind, Father and Master,
And Savior and Lord, with the Help
of the One who resides in my Soul;
Until the day that I bow at the Throne
Of the Magnificent One Who is King.

Oh Father, who loves me, that I might
Be one who follows the Way of Your Light!
Help me to honor and love you much more,
Than I yet have remembered to do before!

Cause me to become more and more
Like the One, who came in the likeness
Of those you created, in order that We
Might know Grace that is Given,
By the Cherished Work that is Done.

Wandering

I wander on uncertain roads,
Upon a certain path.
And where I wander who can say?
Until I wander back.

I ponder on a certain thought,
And wonder where it goes.
Is there a graveyard somewhere close,
Where buried thoughts can go?

Do they become the fodder for
The better thoughts that come?
Or do they lie there, waiting,
Till their bones, to dust have gone?

I think that they wait for
A thought, to blossom more,
And give its roots the nourishment,
To bring up half a score.

And thought on thought,
And wave on wave, from the mind
Begin to soar; Until the mind
No longer waits for oceans at the door.

And then the mind, it launches out
Upon a sea so green. Until it
Finds another thought that
Waits beyond the sea.

On a Quote

I read a book by an author of note,
Who wrote in a different time.
She said we are there to define the earth,
To give it a wisdom and lore.

I ponder on this and how we now live,
And wonder what happened through time,
And how it can be that we live apart
From the earth and the way that we are.

We were made for work,
To work the land,
To govern the seasons and times.
Yet, now, we are far from the
Way we were made
And live in uncomfortable grace.

And we feel the distance
From what we were made
To be in a perfect place.

And perfection, once lost,
Cannot be regained...
Except by The ONE
The Most High.

On a Sunset

Big bright sun is lying low,
Wet sand glistens in the glow,
And I want to hold it all alone
With my flesh and with my bone.

Clutching my pen I try to write,
To influence a coming night.
Only worries and care come through,
Until I turn and look to you.

You hold me fast, so I can roam,
And where I go, I am not alone.
I have no cares you cannot conceive,
I must always and only believe.

Thoughts on a Wave

Roar and crash on the sand
You wave, roar in the
Black of the night.

We, on the land will
Listen to you, as you
Crash, you changing tide.

What do you see on your
Long, cold journey?
Until you here arrive?

On a land that is warm
Or a cold, cold shore
On a beach that is alive?

What goes on in this world,
You wave, that have traveled
Through days and nights?

What have you seen, can
You tell me now, wave,
What is in the night?

I know the truth,that wave and I,
Know the reason for the night
And who holds the key to the heart of
The world in the depths of the
Glistening tides.