Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Souls 1-21-15


I watch a dozen leaves or so
out circling on the drive -
reminding me of people who
no longer are alive.

To be content, they'll money earn.
They'll dress the part and bow -
because they are unsatisfied
of where they are right now.

Though deep into the winter,
they seem, in breeze, so dizzy.
Swirling 'round in circles cold,
they all seem very busy.

They don't take time for other folks
or problems they might bear.
They cannot emphasize with them.
They rarely ever care.

So here outside my humble room,
outside my window sill,
I see them blowing 'round and 'round
with great deceptive skill.

They idolize their happiness
and idolize each need.
They idolize each fantasy
and idolize their greed.

So colorful before they fell,
now brown and curled and dry,
they aren't yet buried 'neath the snow -
and only God knows why.

Although their minds are thinking,
although their bodies fed,
although their hearts are beating -
their souls?  Completely dead.

I watch a dozen leaves or so
out circling on the drive -
reminding me of people who
no longer are alive.

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Slips Away 1-20-15



The pain, immense for quite awhile,
but it is worth that precious smile.
The nurses measure and they weigh.
But soon our mother slips away.

We choose our friends and choose our spouse,
we choose location and our house.
And while the children romp and play
a friend or brother slips away.

The love of money's in our blood
as if it's some fantastic drug.
While some are hunters, some are prey,
another dollar slips away.

We stack more food upon our shelves.
Ignore all others, help ourselves.
From off the narrow road we stray,
another homeless slips away.

The rider smiles and so approves
downtrodden trails beneath the hooves
of horse that stopped to eat some hay.
Another stranger slips away.

The sky awash in brilliant hue
that we have grown accustomed to.
It pauses not to hasten day.
Another twilight slips away.

Of what importance is the goal?
It's only God who's in control.
For while the old man bows to pray,
another friendless slips away.

We think we have life figured out.
We give opinions, argue, shout -
but step back from that vast array
when all we held just slips away.

Yes,
they'll stand around my casket and
they'll talk about the 'Promised Land'.
But what will matter on that day
when my opinion slips away?

When dirt is piled on casket lid,
they'll lie about the good I did.
But God is Truth.  He'll have His say
when my own soul... slips away.

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Thursday, January 15, 2015

A Purpose 1-15-15


What eye would have a purpose -
if rainbows had no hue,
if sunsets had no colors,
if skies were void of blue?

What ear would have a purpose -
if lips, inaudible,
if harmony was absent sound,
if nature, all, was still?

What nose would have a purpose -
if flowers had no scent,
if perfumes had no fragrance,
if spring was no event?

What tongue would have a purpose -
if salt had ne'er a taste,
if thoughts were but a vapor,
if words just went to waste?

What mind would have a purpose -
if argumentative,
if self-absorbed in ignorance,
if truth was 'relative'?

What heart would have a purpose -
if love, it could not feel,
if it was hard as granite stone,
if it could never heal?

What life would have a purpose -
without salvation's tree,
without the birth of Jesus Christ,
without the Trinity?

What soul would have a purpose -
if grace had not been free,
if faithfulness had not been lived,
if saved, we couldn't be?

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Wednesday, January 7, 2015

Poet Friends 1-7-15

They write soft words with loyal pens
about God's love that far transcends
our drear, dark worlds of futile ends.
So thankful I, for poet friends.

Though Bibles have at times been banned,
we've come to search and understand
that narrow pathway God has planned
which leads us to the Promised Land.

For each of us who are forgiv'n
and faithfully are ever liv'n,
a unique journey God has giv'n
from home on earth to home in Heav'n.

It's true, so let each poem gird
creation's rainbow, rose and bird
and other things that run in herd
with Heaven's rhyme, with Heaven's word.

Away from earth's distracting din,
in Heav'n we'll read these words again,
so write some poems.  Now begin.
Make readers smile with widest grin.

Sometimes we laugh, sometimes we smile,
sometimes the words, we can't compile -
and though we cry through earthly trial -
our God shines through.  It's all worthwhile.

From earthquake to the mourning dove,
God's great creation speaks thereof,
so I give thanks to God above
for poet friends and poets' love.

Thank you!

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Saturday, January 3, 2015

Coexist? 1-3-15


Took root, a little baby vine
had grown from tiny seed -
but it was insignificant,
so meaningless indeed.

Yet it drew our attention to
its cute, industrious scene -
and it seemed very harmless here
in suited leaves of green.

It hugged a tree so gracefully.
We thought we understood.
We thought it all so laudable.
We thought it all so good.

But was it we were taken in
by 'ends' we thought would be -
through 'means' by which it made its mark
upon one healthy tree?

That tree had given all it could.
"I welcome you," it said.
And so the vine continued up,
consuming tree... 'til dead.

Because of its misfortune here,
our hill became abuzz.
Persuasive and invasive and
persistent it sure was.

But care?  Oh, no.  Us bothered?  Not!
For we could never fall.
We each had thought us healthier
and stronger than them all.

Well, one by one our trees did fall.
The vines grew larger still.
They grew the way they wanted to
while thieving our good will.

I should have stopped that little vine
that squeezed a bit too tight.
It's hug was a deceptive one
that never seemed quite right.

We all had thought that we were safe,
but we were 'taken in'.
Our hill of trees was killed off by
just one deceptive sin.

No, sometimes we can't "coexist"
when others want their say,
when others prove their disrespect,
when they demand 'their way'.

From cults to sick be-headings and
abortions, right-to-die",
have we forgotten, God is Love?
The rest is all a lie!

We cannot 'coexist' with sin.
God's truth and life we need.
If Jesus lives within our hearts.
He kills that sinful seed.

We forest trees majestically
had stood atop that hill.
If only we'd been prudent and
been faithful to His will...

One Nation under God we were -
but we had thought it fine,
that we allow a monster here
from cute and tiny vine.

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Matthew 7:15 (KJV)

"Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing,
but inwardly they are ravening wolves."

Monday, December 29, 2014

Heaven Bound 12-29-14


In one quick flash, I hear a splash,
The trouble some get in!
They scream and shout and then yell out,
"Please help me from this sin!"

The selfishness of those God blessed!
May lightning strike them down!
They misbehave.  Let Jesus save -
or let them sink and drown.

Life guard, to be, is hard you see,
and I'm a nervous wreck.
To help someone?  I'd rather run
than risk my precious neck.

I disappear in church right here
with friends, safely on shore -
and say on cue, "I'll pray for you"
then keep track of the score.

It really stinks when someone thinks
the obligation's mine.
Though sin assault, it is their fault!
And that's the bottom line!

Am selfish, I, if I don't try?
I'm just one lone observer.
I have my place.  I have my grace.
I have my 'life preserver'.

By now you've guessed that I've been blessed 
and Heaven-bound indeed!
So don't be blue.  They'll rescue you
and other folks in need.

Who cares 'bout sin - and things within
that dark and angry sea?
Why should I care who's thrown in there?
(unless, of course, it's me).

©2014 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Sunday, December 28, 2014

Through His Love 12-28-14


I can't speak true of single hue
nor can I write hereof -
for there's a bright and vivid white
that glistens through His love.
---
There's no more green, but view's serene -
with frost on valley vast.
Through winter hills, my God fulfills
with blessings unsurpassed.

Yet, so hungry, some love money.
Satan always lurks.
And God, so great, they can't relate
to all His awesome works.

Each frosted plant, God has enhanced
and all should understand -
we're not to cease His Christmas peace,
in this, His wonderland.

The shepherds came.  They learned his name.
And Jesus was that boy.
Though light was dim, they stayed with Him
and all were filled with joy.

Below that star, directed far,
three wise men bearing gifts -
with gold and myrrh.  In awe they were,
for spirit, Jesus lifts.

Are we too old?  Are we too cold -
to see His loving face?
Are we too blind?  Is Christ too kind -
that we can't know His grace?

Already sent if we repent.
Eternity is near!
Still offers choice, that still, small voice,
upon the humble ear.

Though few can hear, it does endear.
It's free and there's no cost.
Untouchable, yet visible,
His sunlight off the frost.

His faith is sure and sparkling pure
on landscape so endowed.
He floods His grace upon this place.
Emotion screams out loud.
---
I can't speak true of single hue
nor can I write hereof -
for there's a bright and vivid white
that glistens through His love.

©2014 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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