1. |
forgotten hallelujahs
03:33
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i’ve been assembling words and,
on account of my collecting,
they’ve gathered dust, unheard.
these old curios jealously confined;
lacquer-shined it’s time to crack the spine.
unhang the harp from the willow tree!
holler through the hollow from the hymnal sheet!
let loose the ties as tongues arise,
reviving forgotten hallelujahs!
bashfully rendered staves
shouldering the sentiments
sown during dormant days.
sprouting through my field of view, liltingly along
cheerly drawn to song in with the dawn!
unhang the harp from the willow tree!
holler through the hollow from the hymnal sheet!
let loose the ties as tongues arise,
reviving forgotten hallelujahs!
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2. |
every once was looming
03:50
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tracks: faded lastings of what was;
the leftbehindings (dulled in dust)
entrusting traces of the past.
i: a careful collection of what’s been;
fortunes, faults and failings sew the seams,
convene and, inwardly, collide.
molecular matters, bound in instancemade are we
settled dust in dislocated euphony?
once upon the evergrowing
(formed from fractured toandfroing)
is the bloom of dailymercies new.
allatonce in neverknowing,
slow as seeds, become their sowing
all imbued with every was in view.
tracks, constructing constellations (of a sort).
laid by patient plotting, all the more,
the course liberally held fast.
we, all of particles and parts;
a motley menagerie of stars
is ours in conglomerate syncope.
molecular matters, bound in instancemade are we
settled dust in dislocated euphony?
once upon the evergrowing
(formed from fractured toandfroing)
is the bloom of dailymercies new.
allatonce in neverknowing,
slow as seeds, become their sowing
all imbued with every was in view.
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3. |
stirring of birds
04:09
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sold my eyes;
stumbling blind, i grope along the wall.
leavening lies
swell and dispel hopefulness withal.
but i heard a Voice chime,
“arise and shine!
your sun is sunken so
I’ll give you Mine!”
how’d You find me? how’d You know
the silent sighing of my soul and
gild me as a garland in Your garden?
what’s this quiet kiss binding
up my broken heart?
with a whisper giving gladness as
it passes, trading
beauty for my ashes!
take my hands.
little as they are it’s all i have.
longing land,
raise again your ruins from the darkened drab!
i heard a Voice sing,
awakening spring,
“out, O, sprouts! come praise your King!”
how’d You find me? how’d You know
the silent sighing of my soul and
gild me as a garland in Your garden?
what’s this quiet kiss binding
up my broken heart?
with a whisper giving gladness as
it passes, trading
beauty for my ashes!
what mystery makes my mourning into music!
and trades my sighing sorrow for a song?
so long old, threadbare clothes,
i’ve brighter, righter robes! and i will
joy in He Who gives me my repose!
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4. |
old bear (o, where)
02:51
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a stretch & a yawn
sign to a season dawning;
up! out of winter’s awning,
crawling on all fours.
having emptied autumn’s stores,
will he face the day?
dusting his sleeves,
the crack of his back relieving;
chest slow & deeply heaving,
breathing through his nose &,
with a wiggle of his toes,
is on his way.
old bear, where’ve you been hiding?
old bear, o, where are you off to now?
forests & fields;
rivers & roads; freewheeling
to the unknown! unyielding but
shielding still his heart
in the hinterlands apart
from the hindrance of ties.
feral he roams. once
quiet & quaint & homely,
now but a rogue he’s only
lonely in the end.
needful of a friend
but he’s too darn shy...
old bear, where’ve you been hiding?
old bear, o, where are you off to now?
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5. |
mourning marrow
04:13
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will this head ever be fit to wear a crown?
so often in my weakness it comes tumbling down…
what more could i be given? but dirty hands
keep hidden all the light,
losing sight of what i found.
O, God, where have i got to now?
in the sight of the sun;
what is this i have done?
bathsheba danced for me
out on the roof alone,
in my late night wandering
where i forgot the Throne.
this body (dead in its disease)
begs more for the flesh and bone.
bathsheba, pray for me,
the arrows’ mark i chose
and now uriah’s not coming home…
make me to hear joy and gladness once again,
and bid the bones You’ve broken to bless Your name.
i’ve done evil and i’m wicked, but Your blood
has come and lifted me from death;
the holiness i can’t attain,
rendered on a cross, You took the blame.
in the sight of the sun;
what is this i have done?
bathsheba danced for me
out on the roof alone,
in my late night wandering
where i forgot the Throne.
this body (dead in its disease)
begs more for the flesh and bone.
bathsheba, pray for me,
the arrows’ mark i chose
and now uriah’s not coming home…
wash me white as snow,
take this broken heart in tow!
everything to You, i owe,
my God, You’re good to me!
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6. |
careful
03:56
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all these broken pieces,
yoked cohesively as one;
in tenderness a mess of pitch and tar.
curious that such segments
seem contented to be spun
in allosteric orbit around the heart.
i’ll be careful;
prayerful when stepping on your toes,
giving grace the space to grow.
let's speak gently;
intently with hopeful, honest words,
knowing neither has deserved this promise.
a cord formed from these tatters
gathering scattered strands to loom,
intricate and beautifully bound.
gilded glad in reverence,
all the remnant scraps exhumed;
undignified yet graceful as a gown.
i’ll be careful;
prayerful when stepping on your toes,
giving grace the space to grow.
let's speak gently;
intently with hopeful, honest words,
knowing neither has deserved this promise.
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7. |
to a sad, old house
03:46
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to a sad, old house
(desolate and tired),
cobwebs woven thick and high;
my Father came and,
finding frailty in its frame,
knew better beauty had to here abide.
the nails in His hands for to
fix what’s come undone…
these walls beg to dance!
sound the trumpet, work has just begun!
You tore down the curtain
to let in the light.
o, the splendour! You were certain
of the shining on the other side!
then the darkened, dirty corners
couldn’t help but change
when the colours of Your vital love
chased the gloom away!
the air, dead and heavy,
made stale and stifled breath and,
weighed as a burden on His heart.
it was affection that He chose
to in every crooked floorboard sow,
bringing will and worth to every broken part!
the nails in His hands for to
fix what’s come undone…
these walls beg to dance!
sound the trumpet, work has just begun!
You tore down the curtain
to let in the light.
o, the splendour! You were certain
of the shining on the other side!
then the darkened, dirty corners
couldn’t help but change
when the colours of Your vital love
chased the gloom away!
out of the brokenness
You built a home and
painted me right, called me son
and said, “you’ll never be alone.”
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8. |
in the arms of a man
03:52
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pretty girl; gloomyeyed,
with the tilt of a wilting flower,
craven, bends to tawdry trends’
lies of “love” set in springly bowers,
and that which passes show
lingers lonely in her bones.
ennui, in stifled sighs,
(bitter) breaks in a spate of tears.
overwrought from comforts caught
in a yarn spun from fruitless fears.
and that which passes show
lingers lonely in her bones.
in the arms of a man
can she come to understand
who she was made to be?
oh it’s hard, i know,
to bear the ache of being alone
but we aren’t lost to the inane,
there’s a Love that still remains.
youthful eyes, now faded dim,
lost their light by some sleight of hand.
sorrow sown in suits of woe,
barely bound by some sable strands.
and that which passes show
lingers lonely in her bones.
in the arms of a man
can she come to understand
who she was made to be?
oh it’s hard, i know,
to bear the ache of being alone
but we aren’t lost to the inane,
there’s a Love that still remains.
in the arms of a man
blood has bought by pierced hands
upon that blessed tree.
it was Love there spoken;
Love that wrought His body broken
that you might come to know
you’ve never been alone.
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9. |
you devil! disappear!
04:15
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i’m a worm in peopleclothes;
disjointed are my bones
with bits of broken heart.
though i’ve tasted of the rain,
murky voices call my name;
creeping through the dark…
lonely wilderness! tried and tempted,
i’ve cried; lamented,
“hie to me my rest!”
away! wily whisperer, leave me be!
onerous and arduous is
your callous company.
O, down you devil! disappear!
you can trick me into tears but
i’ll be laughing when you sneer.
oh dear, you’re toothless!
hard pressed on every side,
i won’t be crushed nor terrified;
these lies: your native tongue!
my outward man is perishing
yet inward wells a wondrous Spring,
as all my death’s undone!
lonely wilderness! tried and tempted,
i’ve cried; lamented,
“hie to me my rest!”
away! wily whisperer, leave me be!
onerous and arduous is
your callous company.
O, down you devil! disappear!
you can trick me into tears but
i’ll be laughing when you sneer.
oh dear, you’re toothless!
pallid prince of death, though
you jibe and jeer and jest,
it’s sure the war is won! you’re powerless!
faithfully i’m kept
and, upon my final breath,
in lieu anew i’ll breathe in Glory dressed!
away! wily whisperer, leave me be!
onerous and arduous is
your callous company.
O, down you devil! disappear!
you can trick me into tears but
i’ll be laughing when you sneer.
oh dear, you’re toothless!
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10. |
the wild ones
03:47
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feral feet have tread
in cloud by day. the waifs and strays;
the wild ones of a promised land.
lead on, pillar of fire
in dead of night; the guiding light,
go gallantly dancing o’er the sands!
yon horizon, home; the chase at hand.
what wonders we have seen!
the gilded dress of wilderness
tempting me to call it as my kin.
but every pretty thing,
however glorious, turns to dust
eventually and scatters in the wind.
wayward ‘long as life is in these limbs.
the vagrant heart perceives a rest beyond the eaves
that shade a world ripening for the reaping.
seeping in the soil, grown glimpses of the spoils from
that first Temple’s bloom, till ready for the Groom
we run like wild ones.
resurrection flowers.
pilgrims, we, the scattered seeds
of eden’s eye looking towards the Spring.
see that morning come;
the genesis in renascence!
o, taste and see the goodness that it brings
as blossoms burst in reverent homilies!
the vagrant heart perceives a rest beyond the eaves
that shade a world ripening for the reaping.
seeping in the soil, grown glimpses of the spoils from
that first Temple’s bloom, till ready for the Groom
we run like wild ones.
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11. |
enter Spring
05:05
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the long, lorn winter caused my
fingertips to splinter in the cold.
dourly in the darkness, it's
frozen through my carcass to the bone.
trying to quicken my resolve, i am
stricken in a squall of sin and
cracking at the creases i
purse and peel to pieces from within.
O, how long, sweet Spring? don’t hide Your face from me!
listlessness aplenty, i’ve been
pissing all my pennies down the well but
my mightiest of wishes are but
spurious superstitions i have held.
seeking something i could do that
maybe would imbue some heart,
i found nothing in my doing as my
impotent pursuing fell apart.
O, how long, sweet Spring? don’t hide Your face from me!
O, how long, sweet Spring? don’t hide Your face from me!
when in my sadness, all but ashes,
make me light out of the dark!
i’ve got the joy, i’ve got the joy,
i’ve got the joy down in my heart!
and in my weeping, let it seep
into my broken, brittle bones,
though i’m shaken, spent and aching
i am certain of my hope!
hope! it’s not what you do, it’s what you have!
it’s not what you take, it’s what you’re given, for living on!
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12. |
of dusk's quiet clamour
03:00
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sunlight settles sweetly
finite; here but briefly,
bowing down its head.
colours coyly mingle;
lovers kiss; rekindled
in the vibrant ebb.
when the last of day begins,
subtle secrets held therein confess,
attesting solemnly
to more than meets the eye.
seamless pinks and oranges;
phoenix-fierce and gorgeous
versed in pirouettes.
gleeful encores calling,
sequels every dawning,
now in quiet vignette.
when the last of day begins,
subtle secrets held therein confess,
attesting solemnly
to more than meets the eye.
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