Nestled in the Woods

Not fear, but faith,
And with the faith, relinquish works of pride
And wisdom and our wits.
Fear is a wraith
That mocks God’s mercy that He brings beside
The hurt and never quits.

Grasp the conflict?
And try to turn it downside on its head?
Where God’s voice can’t be heard?
That effort’s vain,
And then will break apart the fragile thread.
It’s futile and absurd!

Don’t hold to stuff
Or conflicts that we nevermore can win,
Because the victory’s won,
And it’s enough.
The battle’s His.  To fight against Him, sin.
He sees the deed as done.

An end lies in the future;
 it could be imminent…perhaps remote,
  but seldom is in view.
To reach the end will somehow tell the tale.
Some basic tools to measure,
 in order to prevent a sideline note
  of pleasures to pursue
or dark distraction that will hide the trail.

A tool drawn from the pocket…
 a soul of charity…a giving love…
  that’s selfless, true, and good…
   to realize that others walk along.
Another is enjoyment
 of life…to do and see and look above
  the circumstance that would
   make many travelers weep and only see the wrong.

Dig deeply; find contentment…
 a peace to over-tread anxieties
  that pummel from all sides,
   and know that inner peace transcends each blow.
Whether climbing or descent,
 find hope that’s just ahead
 and then foresees
  the goal where all abides,
   although the trail is difficult and slow.

But recognize the true fact:
 That hearts are empty shells to hold each tool.
  It is not self-empowered;
   the source is from beyond this mortal clay.
Easy to get off the track,
 where each wayward step tells “here is a fool!”
  Or if the path is flowered
   with seeds that have been planted on the way.

Missteps may happen often
 throughout the journey long; the path is drawn
  and ready for the tread
   of feet that keep in step to reach the aim.
The tools availed will soften
 opposing threats that throng from dark to dawn.
  The purpose lies ahead,
   and just beyond success is there to claim.

See not empty shadows but the shine;
Look not for the gold without the mine;
Work not for the things we cannot keep;
Buy not goods that hinge on credit’s cheap.

In the shadows many pitfalls hide,
But the shine revieals a road that’s wide.
What we keep we may not see or touch,
Yet the greater cost is valued much.

Plant your tree by waters deep and still;
Draw on what will e’er your spirit fill;
Count your fruit and add the daily yield;
Sow it broadly in a goodly field.

Ol’ Blackberry Ben saw his shadow today
    and slipped himself back in his hole.
“Another six weeks I will stow me away
    to live underground like a mole.
Those humans can live with the ice and the snow
    and fatten some more by the fire,
While I shall go hungry and thinner I’ll grow
    as I in my burrow retire.
But ah! In six weeks I’ll emerge with my clan
    to feast and to bask in the sun,
While citizens toil–both the woman and man–
    when once the warm weather has come.
Now I have the best of the bargain of life–
    a cozy home under the land:
I sleep in the winter along with my wife–
    my children there close by my hand.
But humans must worry with funds and with food;
    they fret about how to keep warm;
They run to and fro in a terrible mood,
    concerned they’ll be caught in a storm.
They should learn a lesson from groundhogs below–
    a lesson from under the sod:
To quit their pursuits and just go with the flow,
    and let everything up to God.”

BB/jwb

There is that time of morning
Between confusing dream and conscious thought,
Before the darkness dissipates—is conquered by the sun,
Before some thought of warning
Or trouble creeps back in my mind of naught
But yesterday’s unwise mistakes and duties left undone.

I waken with a hoping—
A clean page willing to be written full
Of joys and new accomplishing that I’ve not done before—
Desire for a coping—
A rise above an errant, worldly pull,
And write that leaf where faith grows wings that take their flight and soar.

In my strength I’d be failing
In each endeavor for a perfect flight.
Those wings would droop and plummet me to depths below the ground.
In God’s care I’ll keep sailing
And reach beyond a fore-accomplished height,
For in His arms I’ve ridden free and lofty summits found.

Now that “All Things” has been published, I have begun a new book.  Tentatively, the title is “Soar Above the Yesterdays”, taken from the poem below.

Forget the past.
Oh, I don’t mean to kill those pleasant memories;
But rather yield those things that haunt the mind~~
    Pain and disappointing days;
    And even lock away the little victories.

Forget those things;
And with forgetting press on toward the final prize,
Where each event points to the finish line~~
    Soar above the yesterdays,
    And seek those things that reach beyond these cloudy skies.

Philippians 3:13-14…Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.