April 11: Where Lies the Tempest

Where Lies the Tempest

Tempests and teapots are linked inside my head,
   A word association some shrink would likely find
Troubling should he stumble upon it testing me
   To check my fitness to roam loose with such a mind.

He'd have a field day tracking the dusty pathways in my skull;
  Oddities that lurk along the crooked tracks inside my mind,
Collected there during a life  not entirely sure just where,
  I was going or what next thing I was going to find.

I can't say any of it was very easy all in all,
   Surprises have a way of being quite uncomfortable.
My friends who disapprove of my politics or religion,
   Find my haphazard pursuits the height of unsustainable.

Good thing the God I serve sees what's up ahead
   And knows precisely how it all works out.
He, unlike those who think my life is unsustainable,
   Speaks to me in whispers. He has no need to shout.

I hear Him when I wander woodland paths and forest streams,
   Nudging me to take the trails He knows I ought.
Comforting me in rain, the wind or summer heat,
   Reminding me that tempests often originate in pots.

I find I can rest assured trusting no other guide than He,
   Just His whispers in my ear when thunderstorms arise.
From teapots in their majestic insignificance.
   He tells me hold until the latest howling tempest dies.

 © 2024 by Tom King

Corin the Piper

 

CORIN THE PIPER
           by Sheila King



CHORUS:

C    Em7  Am   Dm  Dmaj7    G
Corin the Piper lives here no more
Em            Am      D                       G
He and his mother left when he was four
C       Em7               Am       Dm         G
Some day there'll be music, same as before
        Em                      Am
But it won't be easy for Corin
C     G7          C
Lives here no more

    C     Em7           Am       D                           C
1. I sit here at the window, watchin' the children play
En                          Am             D                               G
They don't know I'm even here, but they come here every day.
C                      Em7         Am           Dm                       G
Sometimes the tears start fallin', and I wonder what they're for
Em          Am               C     G7        C
Until I remember, Corin lives here no more

CHORUS:

2. He filled my days with laughter, sunshine and song,
And Corin, the drummer, was seldom ever wrong.
Sometimes I hear him singing, and my heart starts to soar.
And then I remember, Corin lives here no more.

CHORUS:

© 1980 by Sheila King,
@ Alexandria, LA

* For the story behind this song/prophecy click on this link: Signs from God

April 25 - Building on the Rock

Building On the Rock

The wise man builds his house upon a rock

  Instead of on the loose and shifting sands

The rock to keep the house from breaking

  Supports his dwelling in its solid stony hands.

But below the rock's a shifting granulated sea

  It's sand that floats this ark – roof, walls, foundation,

And when the restless Earth moves shifting in its bed

  It is the sand that moves and not this homely habitation.

And so we live upon this planet swinging in wild orbit

  Round a roaring sun, busily blowing itself up.

A rock to live on, floating in insubstantial space

  And yet we trust the frail illusory stone to hold us up.

© 2014 by Tom King

April 12 - Nesting

Nesting

There are four eggs this morning

  In the nest, I found in among the creeping Charlie vines.

Four days ago there were none,

  Only a carefully crafted hollow circle among the leaves.

I frightened her this morning

  When I went to water the planter.

She flew just out of reach and sat
  Chittering at me from the banister.
 

With just 13 days to warm her hatchlings

 She's little time to play hide and seek with me.

In and out among the leaves and empty bird houses

  That I hung about, an offered home that she did not accept..

A conservative bird she'd rather choose a home herself

   Than settle for a public housing option.

Provided by me, a bloke she doesn't know at all

   But one who has the time to earn her trust.

© 2014 by Tom King

April 7 - Pruning

Pruning

I didn't know about azaleas
  or roses, blackberries, lilacs or crape myrtles
They need to be pruned;
  a good gardener knows when and which ones.
Some are pruned after they bloom
  those which grow the best on new wood.
Some before the blossoms appear because they grow
  the best along stems of old wood.

The trick is knowing the flower;
  When it blooms and how it grows;
Where to plant and whether to clip the blossoms
  or if you should let them go ahead and make seeds and fruit.
The gardener knows the plants he has tended;
  watered, fertilized and trimmed as needed.
The Gardener knows the plant and how best to make it grow and bloom.
  Unlike the plants we must also know and trust the gardener.

© 2014 by Tom King

I Look Up

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Look Up

By Tom King

When I came this way, I never thought that life would lead me here.

I thought that I would see You, should I ever want You near.

"Where's God when you need him?" my cold comforters demand.

"Why is He not with you, if it's just...... to hold your hand?"

You ask me why,

When I'm standing at the bottom, I look up.

You ask me why,

When I've nowhere else to go, I still look up.

When my head is bowed in sorrow

And I cannot see tomorrow

For the darkness swirling round me I look up.

I still look up....

In the hour of my trial when I am most in need of grace

All around me, only darkness and I cannot see His face

This race I've run seems ended here, I'm been beaten to my knees

My battered heart is broken Lord, Oh where's......your promised peace?

They ask me why,

When all is lost I do not turn away.

They ask me why,

Where is He who made a promise that He'd stay

Beside me through the darkest vale,

Who promised He would never fail

And He'd be right here for me on my darkest day?

When I looked up....

It's not because I'm looking for a mansion made of gold

It's not because I hope to be quite rich when I am old

I'm stumbling, groping in the dark, not looking for reward.

I strain to hear the still small voice that guides me........ to my Lord

You ask me why

When I'm standing at the bottom I look up.

You ask me why

When I've nowhere else to go I still look up.

When I've reached my final day

I can do nothing but obey

And when the darkness overwhelms me I'll look up.

I'll still look up....

©  September 8, 2013