Meaning in it All

Too many songs I’ve written then forgotten
Too many poems I’ve penned and never read
Bereaving of a song
Sand through my fingers, gone
How will they ever be…
The days, the lines gone into documentation
The waste of time, times two, I’ve told myself
But it’s a warring thought
Against my spirit, Not
Another day distraught
(There is)
Meaning in it all
A purpose and a call
Awaiting time to shine
Awaiting darker nights
Where only I can sing 
Into their suffering
Revealing You in me…The meaning in it all
   When they mine my grave
   For the treasure never spent (treasure never spent)
   They’ll sadly walk away
   For eternity
   Has all of me

Missed

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One missed opportunity
One more way I wasn’t used
Another one I could have blessed
I feel worthless and accused

But I listen closer
And a fainter voice is clear
Reminding me of steadfast love
And knowledge of my fear

Of far reaching power
And of further reaching grace
I forgive myself and look
Into his eyes, and weathered face

I am a priest, a holy saint
Made just and purified
As dawn breaks through, then I will too
Holy Spirit fortified

Fruit, a poem on God’s Creation Around, and Within Us

I am not from here.

I was bought to become
A citizen of a new Kingdom

That defies space, and laughs at time
Makes rain and soil, twists the vine

It takes that which was never so
And speaketh it to be, to grow

To burrow roots and draw from silt

And push aside condemning guilt

Its nutrients of truth and grace
Are coursing through my spider veins

Until at last in seasons’ time
A glimpse of pink, a bloom, a sign

And all the waiting, and irresolute
Will pale behind colors of life-bearing fruit

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Transformation Northwest – Conference with Father’s House Church, at 1st Baptist Church SW Portland, featuring guest Speaker, Pastor at Hope Centre in Tauranga New Zealand, Kristen Williams. Also featuring breakout session speaker, Joshua Shaw, on speaking out with boldness to those in public, words of knowledge, and healing those with pain or afflictions, by the power of the Spirit.

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I Don’t Need You – a poem about sufficiency apart from Jesus

I don’t need you

I got through my day without you, just fine

I don’t need you 

I work hard to bring home the money, in time

 

   Just let me float – on the breeze

   of this warm complacency

  Just let me float – on the breeze

   of this warm complacency

 

I don’t need you

I have all the comforts of a good life ~ the best

What is need is…

My media, medicine, family & friends; I’m blessed

 

This way of life I’ve grown accustomed to

Though I’m not sure I’ve grown at all

Surrounded by those who just agree with me

Though I’m not sure who I could call…should I fall

 

   Everything’s fine

Just let me float

   Everything’s good

On the breeze

   Everything is…

Of this warm

   Is as it should

Complacency

 

 

::

comfort zoning, cartoon poetry and a rhythmic charge to reach out

it’s time to help someone. time to open your eyes to a person in need. you can’t keep sitting inside your air conditioned house day after day. search out people who are not in your sphere of influence – burst the sphere, & venture into another demographic, even for a half hour this week. you can do it. that half hour could literally mean the world to someone.

anyone can love someone who loves them. but to show love to someone who you don’t even know – who doesn’t like you – or is in some way different from who you’d normally approach – to show genuine love to someone like this is honorable. it is what each of us ought to do, with compassion and love. Lord knows i need to more.

i came across this artist, peter nevland, a few weeks ago & his animated nature & humor grabbed my att’n. at 1st, i thought he was this crazy, outspoken shaggy-lookin’ guy & almost abandoned. but his content kept me listening…until i appreciated how different he was in his approach to art & poetry. search him on youtube or check out his site. give him a few clicks. you’ll see.

meanwhile, here’s a cartoon video of a more serious piece he wrote {from experience}, about reaching beyond our comfort zones to just be available for anyone in need. so click below, relax & get uncomfortable.

http://spokengroove.com/index.php?location=george_ani

music, song-writing, singing, guitar and the kitchen sink

i have this urge to write more songs, sing ’em, & learn chords to them on my black shiny 6-string. the urge to act on the art within won’t go away…not that i want it to. it fades from the front of my mind to the sides, & some days sinks to the bottom pleading with me all the while to let it out. what i struggle with is who i’m supposed to let it out to.

i’m writing, maybe posting it on my songs, poems or lyrics page. i’m singing it to my family (but usually to myself trying to perfect it in my mind – love those shower acoustics!). i may find chords to it, play it as best i can, & then wait. on what? i don’t know! i used to be able to bring a selection (cover or original) up to a song leader i knew & could collaborate with on it. i have no one like that here. i tried craigslist ads, but two ads that i responded to so far didn’t work out. i tried my church’s 2 bands, but one’s not open to recruiting & the other i’m meeting with in a few weeks…so we’ll see. i think they’re lookin’ to keep doing all covers w/the david crowder band pop worship theme & may need one more bgv (background vocalist).

my heart is open to whatever God wants. it really is. but it burns for outreach. i may try connecting w/other artists thru above grounds, but there are so many in austin, it can be overwhelming. it’s not that i need an audience. God has been my main audience for, goin’ on 3 yrs now. i just dont want to miss an opportunity to bless anyone he puts in my path…or to grow in my potential by working w/other talented artists.

for now… i’m waiting with as much patience as i can muster, i’m writng, i’m changing poopy diapers, i’m singing & dancing around the house, i’m doing dishes, i’m playing the same old chord progressions over & over while the laundry pile seems to reproduce before my eyes (ew, that was a strangely vulgar image), i’m making chicken spaghetti, i’m writing and singing lullabies. i’m running out of gas.

it makes my heart slow & my eyes fill when i think about it long. i so want to learn more, create more music & serve a lot more ~ with all i have. you’d think since he put ’em all in me, he’d show me how to get them out…these gifts he’s given. maybe someday soon.

i’m listening.