April 5 - Why Do We Dream of Magic

Why Do We Dream of Magic?

As long as Earth has been,
   Since the Garden even,
When we believed that awful lie,
   That we could be like gods,
We've wondered what our world
   Would be if we had wands to wave
Or secret words to say
   To make things happen magically.

But such power does not belong 
   To us. Such miracles are forged
In the arena of the angels and of He
   Who knit the universe together. 
Whose inward breath expands the fabric
   Of the cosmos and whose every exhale 
Ignites a myriad of stars and spins
   The living worlds into the void. 

So we invent our little stories of the faerie races
   Created with the talents we have been given;
And we make up tales of noble magic folk,
   That in this world could sadly not endure.
For such power corrupts we're told, but no,
    We can imagine magic wielded to the good,
But in the end dark men would come who strive
    For the corruptible crown that sorcery wears.

The universe has rules built into its very bones,
    It makes no allowance for a circumvention
Of the laws that make the the seas to fill with life
    Clothes the mountains and greens the valleys.
So, who are we to wish for magic when
    What we want is mystery, permanence and joy?
But should we take a quiet look around we'd see,
    In Him, the enduring awe and wonder that we seek.

© 2020 by Tom King

April 2 - A Sleeping Stone

April 2 – A Sleeping Stone

God help me I am weary

          Help me find a place just right

Like Jacob I would lie down

          On a stone to sleep tonight

It’s not just the arthritis

          That stabs me in my sleep

It’s a world that groans in agony

          For which at night I weep.

Why look with doubt on grace? Is it

          Too easy to leave so much control

Up to him who spun the universe

          And made of me a living soul?

God grant to me a sleeping stone where I

          Can rest from all the trouble in my head.

God help me trust you love me well enough

          Show me the stone that is to be my bed.

© 2020 by Tom King

Sixteen Chapel Hills

Sixteen Chapel Hills

I've often wondered how many towns named Chapel Hill
We have  scattered across this nation.
I seem to hear that name a lot as I have roamed,
Turns out it's not just my imagination.

There are sixteen Chapel Hill's just one per state
Through the South, Midwest and even more
Along the East coast, but you cannot find a Chapel Hill
From the Rockies clear to California's shore.

I think the Chapel Hill's were named for churches;
The white steepled ones on hills where they were raised,
So that, when we looked up, we'd see those crosses high
Above the places where we launched our prayers and praised.

I'm not sure why no Chapel Hills were built out west.
Where certainly there were hills aplenty to suit church people.
I suspect the mountains have something to do with it.
With those rocky spires about, it seems God doesn't need a steeple.

I hope we do not cease to build those chapel hills,
Even if we stop naming towns for such homely places.
I hope we do not cease to praise and pray in them.
And if only once a week, toward heaven turn our faces.

© 2019 by Tom King

April 2 - Lost Graveyard in an Empty Field

Lost Graveyard in An Empty Field

A solitary stone cross stands alone in a hayfield
Where a home stood, children played and supper bells rang the time.
But time marches on they tell us and homes fall down; and big farms
Swallow small ones at last leaving only standing stones behind.

They're buried here, the first generations who walked behind the plow.
They were well-respected, well-loved and finally duly mourned.
The grass grows high, the names on the stones now hidden from passers by;
From the cars that rush by this place, the drivers otherwise concerned.

They were loved, those who sleep undreaming now beneath the stones.
Each stone placed by someone who did not want to forget their resting places.
But in scarce a hundred years both sleepers and those who placed the stones,
Are long forgotten, no one left who knows the names or remembers the faces. 

Save One who marks each soul that was His; who remembers all the faces,
That once looked up, trusting, knowing He to whom they once surrendered;
Who carved their names into His own hands in a lonely place much like this,
On another cross, had promised even lost graveyards like these would be remembered.

© 2019 By Tom King

I Cannot Help But Sing

I Cannot Help But Sing

I don’t know everything there is to know

I never took the time to find out why

The warm sun spins and the rivers roll

And time keeps flowing by

But I’m filled with wonder for I see

His love followed me around,

When I was lost He loved me and still

Loved me when I was found

Every plant and rock and breathing thing

Holds creation’s mystery.

I’ve searched not understanding,

What every sense was telling me
For love’s the very essence,

The song in every living thing

God’s breathing, silent, strong and free

And all nature cannot help but sing.

I cannot help but sing,

In the wind the music sounds

The very mountains ring with it,

The oceans roar and pound

A joyful percussion moving in me

So strong I could not help but sing

I know he’s watching over me

He loves me and I cannot help but sing.

© 2018 Tom King

Down by the Cool Cool Water

Down by the Cool Cool Water

    E                             A

1. A long time ago a woman came

            B7                          E

    To a well where Jesus taught her,

                                           A

    That if you never want to thirst no more,

                         B7                   E

    You’ve gotta come to the livin’ water.

Chorus:

              E            B7

Oh Lord, let me live

                                  E

Down by the cool cool water
     E                      B7
Spread out like a healing flood

                                          E

Oh l want to live down by the water.

2. When I was a young man I didn’t know

    Which way to go and what I ought to

    Till I stepped down with the preacher man

    Down into the cool cool water

Chorus:

3. Walkin’ along the road of life ,

    Had a couple of sons and a daughter

    Side by side with a loving wife

    We were thirsty for that living water.

Instrumental break

4 We’re all livin’ in a thirsty land

    And it keeps on gettin’ hotter.

    But you’re never gonna have to thirst again,

    If you’re livin’ every day by the water.

Chorus:

5. One day soon we’re all goin’ home

    Each precious soul Jesus fought for.

    I know there’s a porch in heaven for me

    And it’s down by the cool cool water.

Chorus:

End:
  B7                          E
Down by the cool cool water.....
 B7                               A          E
Down by the cool cool water.


© 2018 by Tom King

They Demand You Give Them Facts

They Demand You Give Them Facts

 
They demand you give them facts,
But refuse to accept them when they've got them.

They only give you feelings and cynicism in return,

And think they've won the argument.

They say that you have nothing to offer,

And it breaks your heart that you know a secret,

That they do not.
That life is full of joy

Of meaning and purpose,

If you give Him half a chance..

© 2018 by Tom King

In a Moment

 

In A Moment

In a moment, I knew God had breathed in me.
I knew it the way my body knows
Oxygen when I draw breath
In great gasping lungfuls.
After diving deep beneath the water
Far from the good cool air.

In the twinkling of an eye, I saw light
Pouring through a crack He opened
In heaven’s door for me so I could see
My way in the world by its gleaming;
A light that follows me down the years
Till even now it shows the way.

At the last trumpet, I will know Him
Hear the hoofbeats of his coming in the distance,
And feel the thunder of his approach.
As the clouds roll in and the sky breaks open.
I see the signs, smell the season’s changing,
And hear the wind among the ripening harvest.

We shall not all sleep but we shall all be changed.
 Feel the stirrings of endless ages yet to come
Within our hearts. and in the stillness of the morning,
Rumblings in the Earth and lightnings upon the mountains,
Announcing the moment, the twinkling of the eye,
In which eternity begins, and tomorrow sings of endless joy.

I Corinthians: 15:52

© 2018 by Tom King

Infinities of Choosing

 

 

 

 

 

Infinities of Choosing

Paths diverge in the woods.

Not just one or two, but ten and twenty.

Choices ad infinitum

Stretching out ahead among the trees;

Among the hills and waterways.

A thousand choices, a thousand paths,

Each choice a share in all creation,

Each selection a partnership with God.

We wend our long befuddled way through time

And vast and breathless spaces.

For without the act of choosing

Creation would have faltered at the start.

Unless the first footfalls of the making

Of the universe were chosen by a warm

And wise intelligence that loved us and built

This infinite home with room for children yet to be.

© 2018 by Tom King

We See the Sun

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We See the Sun

Even when the sky is gray

And the clouds so thick you can’t see where

Or if the sun is shining still,

And yet we know the sun is there

For by it I see everything

In the scattered light of day.

I know tomorrow grass will grow

And soon the clouds will roll away.

Storms may hide the sun sometimes

And in the darkness fling the thunder,

Lightning, hail and sheets of rain,

And cause us all to wonder,

Why the gentle warming sun

Would allow the wind and snow.

Until you see the daisies rise
Among the puddles, then you know.

 
© 2018 by Tom King

Perspective - A Haiku

Perspective

The tadpole just hatched

Looks round and sees the edges

Of his scant puddle.

© 2018 by Tom King

Voluntary Victims

We are victims of the worst propaganda.
Sadly we all sign up for an 80 year tour.
We stamp our feet and demand that things
Go our way, bend themselves to our will.

Religion's to blame the secularists say,
For all the ills in all the world.
Religion is the cause of all wars, not the kings
All pain and all suffering's from God.

And like Eve in the garden we accept the lie
And all that comes after it.
The original lie was "Thou shalt not surely die."
The second was "You will be like gods.

And we bought it as though it were true
Because some snake said it was so.
Ever since we have believed ourselves immortal
Despite evidence all to the contrary.

Since we swallowed that lie we've believed
We could create for ourselves a paradise on Earth.
All by ourselves without interference from God.
And we banished Him and left Him for dead.

Get out of our schools and nurseries,
Get out of our homes and our cars.
Get off our televisions and radios.
We don't need you, we're fine as we are.

And even in some of the saddest of places
We've run God right out of our churches!
And He has honored our choices and allowed us
To mess up our once very fine world.

And now we blame God for not fixing it.
We blame the church which can't fix it
Anymore than a hospital can stop drive- by shootings or wars
By patching the wounded or pronouncing us dead.

And we blame it on the God who loved us
And Who gave us our way as we demanded,
And we blame it on the hospitals for sinners
That treat our wounds, self-inflicted.

And we blame it on those who have warned us
And we kill them for all of their pains,
For in more ways than one, we have taught ourselves,
That the paycheck for sin's always death.

And now we demand that God fix it.
Well, there are verses where He said that He would,
But the fix involves burning it all down
And starting the Earth over anew.

An uncomfortable proposition for you
If you cling to the notion you're a god
Simply because you ate some fruit in a garden.
Just to prove you've free will and you could.

© 2017 by Tom King

April 23 – Pastoral Hymn

Prints of this picture are available at http://glennsackett.com/

April 23 –  Pastoral Hymn

O’ Father I have heard Your voice

In the stillness of the night.

And at Your feet I’ve learned to love,

To ever do what’s right.

Father I will lift to You

Each wounded soul you send

That I should be Your loving hands

Your goodness thus to spend.

O’ Father I have seen Your face

In wind and waves and sun,

And on the wide and rolling plain

And mountains where the rivers run.

Father I will bring to you

Each lost and weary heart

That I should find along my way

Your love to each impart.

O’ Father I have touched the streams

Of mercy from Your hand

And caught a glimpse of majesty

I cannot understand.

Father I receive from You

All that my heart can hide

And in the shelter of Your love

Forever I’ll abide.

© 2017 by Tom King

The Wreckage We Survey

The Wreckage We Survey

Warm and wet the living world began,

   A tea party set, just so, for the new folk,

A garden filled with creatures bold and shy,

   Begging for attention from the gardeners.

Inexplicable choices made in the shade,

   Naked, running out among the brambles,

Farmers, now, not gardeners - their first land rush;

   Plowing all along the way, the once unwounded Earth.

  

The sun warms, the moon lights the night to comfort,

   While darkness growing darker, the seasons rise and fall.

And the wreckage we survey is all our own making.

   Not His. The smoking ruin, demands I pay attention.

© 2014 by Tom King

Unraveling

Unraveling

Some days I do not make it, say something stupid      
   I almost keep it together then boom, a burst of errant irritation
Some days I do better and thoroughly pat myself on my own back
   And percolate a smugness that smacks of self-congratulation.

I wish I was a better man and didn't fail so much
   To keep my temper, to hold my peace when irritated
I wish I prayed a little better; saw my way a little clearer,
   Self-control and gritted teeth, I find, are vastly over-rated.

Walking day by day with open soul, listening still and small
   Seems to unravel the threads that bind the muscles of the heart.
Walking day by year, ahead the footpath stretches, God illuminating
   The shabby condition of my tarnished soul coming all apart.

© 2014 by Tom King