The End of the Year: 29 December 1997
My Petition: 11 October 1998
Where Art Thou? 31 October 1999
Il Mare Per Tu: 3 August 2000
Homecoming: 13 August 2000
The End of the Year
The year is drawing to an end.
A bend
Before me in the road of life I see.
I cannot see beyond the curve,
And I could never tell you what will be
Around that bend.
The road behind that I’ve walked on
Is gone,
And I will never tread that path again.
There were flowers along that road—
Which cheered me after thorns had giv'n me pain—
And there was sun.
But the road was difficult, too.
I do
Remember the piercing thorns I walked on;
The darkest nights that ever were;
The many times I felt I was alone.
God helped me through.
So now I face another year
With fear
For what could be lurking around that bend.
More climbing rocky ways, and bitter tears?
But I know I’ve Christ for a friend.
He is ever near.
I praise Him for ever being at my side.
I trust that through it all, He’ll be my guide.
My Petition
Lord, take my hand:
I do not understand
Why Thou has ordered things the way they are.
I do not see
A light ahead of me.
The night is dark and earthly help seems far.
The clouds descend:
I am without a friend.
I am alone, with no–one else to hear.
I can but stand
Within Thy blessed hand:
The only place where there is naught to fear.
Where Art Thou?
Where art Thou, Lord divine? Why does it seem that Thou
Art so far away,
Lifted up to the highest heavens,
Too far for me to reach Thee? Oh, but I still have prayer!
Earth holds no help for me,
Rushing by as it does. I have strayed away from Thee! It is not Thou, but I, which is gone far away...
Canst Thou still hear me, Lord, so high in Heaven? Let me
Return to Thee... I hear a word which comes as softly, gently, as the gleam from
Yonder stars: “I am with thee. Thou art Mine.”
Saviour, I thank Thee: aid me now in this distress.
Take my hand and guide me, for I know not which way I am to go in this confusion.
All power Thou hast; I trust in it and Thee.
Lord, let me return to Thee, walking closely at Thy side.
Il Mare Per Tu
You’re no longer with me...
But it seems to my yet–reeling brain the very walls of this room are
Whispering your name.
You’re not here... but you seem to be, hiding just out of reach like an elusive shadow of the deep...
Oh... I know where you are.
You’re in my heart.
The whispers I hear are the ever–ebbing,
Flowing waters,
Waltzing with the moonbeams over the silver sea...
My heart is that ocean with all its mystic beauty, its endless bounty, its serenity and surging passion...
Do you feel it flowing from where I lie this moment dreaming of you?
I give this ocean into your hands, my love,
Leaving myself but a shell you can hold to the ear of your heart and listen to the echoes of what I have given to you...
Your name still whispers around me.
I can’t sleep; it entices me.
Oh dearest one, do you hear the siren song too?
Come... come... come...
Homecoming
As I sit here with the twilight of the Evening creeping through the window at which I sit,
I see the scenes of my life pass before me.
I watch the Light of my happiness dim,
Until it is hazy and obscure. A cold blue is creeping into my soul,
The blue of the dark present and the chilly unknown ahead...
The Light of God is somewhere beyond this gloom. This confidence
Is all that keeps me from lying down here to die...
I want to find that Light!
I open the door and step out into the damp fog,
Overcome by a desire to escape the memories which hound me like demons.
Where can I go? Surely if I could find the Light, all my troubles will be over.
The darkness falls like an eagle on its prey
And I am blinded by the mist... but heedless of dark and mist I begin to run.
The gossamer cloak of my memory slides from my head... and a blast of cold smacks me...
I stumble, throwing my arms outward—and the cloak slips away altogether...
I sink down to my knees in an icy puddle on the street; my hair covers my horror–filled face.
I had not known such gossamer could be such a warm shelter from this harsh reality of cold...
“Hold fast thy dreams!”—but I had let them go.
“God gave us memory”—but I had cast it off.
Now, left in the cold ice, my limbs stiff and unable to take me any further, I lie down.
What will happen now? I can’t find the Light here, can I? I must go on—but I can’t...
In my ice–dulled mind I envision warm arms ’round me, lifting me from this winter of sorrow,
And the bright eyes of my rescuer penetrating the night...
A peace drifts around me.
Darkness all around me, my senses leave,
But I no longer feel alone...
Am I asleep... or something else?