Falling, In Love

Falling quickly to the ground,
Alone, with no one near.
Is it a leaf, I have found?
No, though many are here.

Maybe falling rays of light:
A sunset in the sky.
As the evening turns to night,
I see that too, and sigh

Yet still there is another fall:
Not leaves, nor a sunset.
Is it my own soul's helpless call?
I could speak ... no, not yet.

The three falls discussed above
As real as they may be.
Are not like your falls of love,
Climbing to Calvary.

Exodus

So dry
And I thirst,
But the worst
Is this sand.

Grains fly,
Pierce my face
Every place
In this land.

We fled
Pharaoh's grip
For this trip
Which I hate.

No bread
While we stray,
So we pray
And we wait.

Parched lips
Spit a groan
Til the stone
Touched his rod.

These sips,
Through the pains,
My thirst wanes
Thanks to God

But food?
Despite fears
It appears:
Manna, quail

Our Guide:
Smoke and flame
Yahweh Came
Without fail.

Compass

The night is dark, the forest deep
I hear many a fright'ning sound
A howl, a snap, I dare not sleep
The once-wide path can not be found.

Searching above won't help my plight
I only see the canopies
The leaves have blocked my view tonight
I can't see through them, past the trees

And even when i catch a glance
Of sky between the leafy crouds
I see that I still have no chance:
The sky's obscured by rolling clouds

And yet, shortsighted I remain
I need no sky to guide my way.
Beyond the stars I'll place my aim.
You'll guide me to the light of day.

You Can't Get There From Here (on your own)

With every grueling inch I climb this upon this mountainside
He stands always just nearby to help, to point, to guide.
And lifts me up again after the next time I backslide.
(Which likely was a consequence of my shortsighted pride)

This climb gets steeper yet though I've been at it now for years.
Slipping frequently despite the lessons and the tears.
My fallen state a blindfold when the tough terrain appears.
The same missteps recurring; I react to my old fears.

I try to keep my focus on that heavenly plateau
Beside the mountain spring from which refreshing waters flow.
Where I'll recline in grass more soft than any that I know
And, resting, feel His Spirit as the gentle breezes blow.

But often times this load I carry seems to weigh a ton
And thinking of plateaus and grass I look up and see none.
Then, seeing every step I'd taken was a foolish one,
I drop it, let Him carry me, and say "Thy will be done."