Sunday, August 20, 2017

This Unknown Man 8-20-17


This man, unknown, still walks alone
among the villainous -
among the thorns and wild horns,
inside our wilderness.
Day after day in dark dismay
the years tread slowly by.
Night after night, who knows his plight -
who knows the truth of 'why'?

So far above, the clouds lack love
for such a lowly man.
They give advice and are not nice
as they are better than...
The waters called and are appalled
at what this man had done.
And from the deep, they make a leap -
accused this lowly one.

But trees are friends and off they fend
the blizzards that blow bold -
and warmth from rock will always mock
the wind and  bitter cold.
Yet sharp the fangs of hunger pangs,
for food is scarce at best.
Though so deprived, can he survive
this all-important test?

He won't complain in all his pain
and so, is not ashamed -
for trees all stand so quiet and
they too, remain unnamed.
From scorching heat, they are not beat.
They brave the elements.
They do not cry.  They do not die
despite impediments.

If in review, you only knew
what all that he withstood -
while making peace with trout and geese,
then lived the best he could.
I understand this unknown man -
as you might guess the clues.
Each step by step with him I kept -
for I walk in his shoes.

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Friday, July 21, 2017

Where All Time Stands Still 7-21-17


I found myself in desperate hope -
I couldn't sing, I couldn't cope
with city's noise that so annoys
and racing time as sin destroys.

Among the city's working slave
and the great ocean's pounding wave,
the time slipped past and flowed so fast.
I prayed for peace - that it would last.

I'd often pray while I would dream
of peaceful life beside a stream -
where acorns drop from high atop
the tallest trees - where time would stop.

Alarmingly high from rocky ledge -
through prayer I found the river's edge.
But there were graves in ocean caves
where men sought shelter from the waves.

I climbed down from my lofty pride
where many stumbled, many died.
In danger, pled I, humble cry
that I should live and never die.

Confessing I, reached deep within
repenting of my ev'ry sin.
And when I found that solid ground,
the grasses, green, were all around.

For all the beauty I did thank
my God along that river bank.
In answered prayer, without a care -
through faithfulness, I found Him there.

And then upstream, a path I took
along a creek, then bubbling brook.
Continued I, to walk on by
all other things that caught my eye.

The water clear, refreshing, clean
was prettier than ever seen.
As if possessed, I couldn't rest -
so feet pressed on.  I was His guest.

Beside His living, bubbling spring.
I found my voice and I can sing.
It is so sweet.  It is complete.
All time stands still with no repeat.

I tarry there in peaceful prayer.
I'm in His arms and do not care
for futile lies and futile cries
of man's deceptions as he dies.

His living spring of water lives!
It never takes - but always gives.
I sought His will and found the thrill
of living where all time stands still.

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Saturday, June 17, 2017

If Teardrop You Can't Be 6-17-17


I was one drop of water with so many, many more,
here falling from the Heavens under great big thunderous roar.

The massive lake below me was so very long and wide.
It seemed that I was dropping near the shore on eastern side.

I saw a pitter-pattering of raindrops on the lake.
I wondered when my time would come - how big of splash I'd make.

But then God sent a burst of wind that blew me over land -
I thought how futile life would be, if sank I, into sand.

As I descended, there appeared a flat, but massive stone.
I saw a little boy in tears, there sitting all alone.

I'd rather be a tear, I thought, than droplet from the sky -
for I'll accomplished little.  Oh, what little worth have I?

A raindrop's life is very short.  Accomplishments are few.
In fact, I'd be ecstatic if I was a teardrop too.

I'd care for him and show him I was patient, kind and meek.
I'd live my life right there with him residing on his cheek.

But God had other plans for me inside that noisy cloud -
and so I fell quite fast and free with others in the crowd.

I've learned some things in my short life.  Please lend me all, your ear.
Please do not cry and do not fight and do not ever fear.

Please don't be so discouraged if you're added to the sea.
Just be content to do God's will if teardrop you can't be.

So very few, are special ones.  So very few, are God's.
And sometimes we can't cope with it and so we are at odds.

I hit so hard, that massive stone.  I splattered all around.
But part of me had met those tears and it was quite profound.

Our friendships seem to be God's will - though very short the years.
The teardrops we have met through storms now bring us loving tears.

One friendship, in particular - how very short, it was -
brought ringing rhymes and chiming words.  I know you know, because...

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Saturday, June 3, 2017

What Is It? (Riddle) 6-3-17


Tell me.  What is it?
It doesn't weigh a thing.
You cannot find it in the sky.
It doesn't have a wing.
It has no legs.  It has no hands.
It doesn't have a brain.
But sometimes it just rips you up
and drives you most insane!

Tell me.  What is it?
It doesn't weigh a thing.
You cannot find it in the sea.
It has no mouth to sing.
It has no ears.  It has no eyes.
And please don't ask me why
it sometimes makes you teary-eyed
and makes you want to cry.

Tell me.  What is it?
It doesn't weigh a thing.
You cannot find it over land
but oh, what it can bring -
contentment, joy and happiness,
excitement unsurpassed.
And when it comes from God on high,
we know we have been blessed!

Tell me. What is it?
It's something int'resting.
It makes me want to shout for joy
and makes me want to sing!
It doesn't take.  It always gives -
like sunshine's warmth on chilly day
when kindness bring's the flower's bloom -
which makes LOVE's big and bright bouquet!

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Saturday, May 20, 2017

Rainbow-colored Dreams 5-20-17


I chase my rainbow-colored dreams.
They are so grandiose it seems -
until the brilliance goes awry
and colors of the rainbow die.

When I was younger I was told
that I'd be better off when old -
if I would always persevere -
not give up and never fear.

So worked, I did, both day and night.
I gave it all - my fiercest fight.
For over forty years 'til now
the sweat poured off my heavy brow.

The fam'ly loss was inhumane.
The millions lost was bankers' gain.
"Success" was sketched out vividly -
but yet this nightmare came to me.

First Timothy, six and ten,
is proven true again, again.
If love of money's in the heart,
then love for God is torn apart.

Until the brilliance goes awry
and colors of the rainbow die,
I chase my rainbow-colored dreams.
They are so grandiose it seems...

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Saturday, May 13, 2017

This Mother's Day 5-13-17


Mere words are insufficient.
Mere words cannot express -
the many tossed emotions
of pain to happiness.

I long to see your face again -
though we are far apart.
I long to hold your hand again
and give you all my heart.

At first I held my feelings back
for which I can't explain.
So now emotions come alive
as with a hurricane!

For I am here and you are there.
There's no where I can turn.
There are no hugs and kisses past
that point of no return.

Oh, how I pray that I could make
my failures up to you.
Yet lost through winds of futile hope,
there's nothing I can do.

Mere time deceives the lazy heart
and says, "It's not a crime -
to wait until the rain has stopped,
then take your good ol' time."

So time has slipped away from me.
So many things it stole.
The greatest?  Not expressing love...
That sorrow rips my soul.

All Heaven knows my mom is there -
so friends, do not delay.
Give any lonely mom you find,
your love this Mother's Day.

©2017 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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Saturday, April 22, 2017

Rose-petal Mother 4-22-17


The morning dew settles
like tears on rose petals.
They cry out for time to return -
and beckon lost seasons
of God-given reasons
as sad notes on my guitar yearn.

You're queen of the givers.
It brings to me shivers
that I was so selfishly made.
Your name defines 'humble'
as my words now crumble
on flowers that I now invade.

Your hands were like Heaven,
unselfishly given,
beyond just the people you knew -
from city to country,
from wealthy to hungry -
and all of the rest of us too.

As butterflies flutter,
I still try to utter
some truth of your beautiful love.
But now, it is just us -
and words don't bring justice
as sunlight spills down from above.

Those simple deflections
of sunlight's reflections
now glimmer like diamonds at play -
in memories briefly
that I see routinely
as if they were just yesterday.

I am not deserving
of all I'm observing
in memories coming to mind -
surrounded by perfume
with roses in full bloom
recalling that you were most kind.

I'll always remember
that freezing December
when I erred and brought you to tears.
When you found me straying,
for me, you were praying -
and over the many long years.

Some mothers are brand new,
but none can compare to
my rose-petal mother, that's true.
While laughter was looming,
our smiles were blooming.
There's none other better than you.

I do so adore you -
shall always continue.
I'd never trade you for another.
Up deep from the earth-plow,
what words can I sing now?
I love you, my rose-petal mother.

Alive still, your caring,
through rose petal sharing.
So many, I can't see them all.
Afloat on the breezes,
each rose petal eases
the pain of the weak as they fall.

Your petals continue
to live on without you.
They float around ever so free.
Like soft downy feather,
I don't wonder whether
some petals will fall upon me.

It's not at all easy
to sing thoughts so deeply
when sung with my dusty guitar.
I find I've distorted
all good you're recorded.
My rose-petal mother, you are.

And it's not by my choice
I miss hearing your voice,
so moistness now covers my eyes.
With fingers still strumming
I hear myself humming
while words get choked up in my cries.

With eyes very blurry
I'm now in no hurry
to vacate this most sacred place.
I can't be more lonely.
I wish I could only
receive one more loving embrace.

I love you so deeply
that when I am sleepy
see rose petals filling the sky.
My rose-petal mother,
my rose-petal mother,
I'll see you in Heaven...  Bye bye.

©2017 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Monday, April 17, 2017

Mister Dirt 4-17-17


At times abused
but always used -
so does he disapprove?
I should have known
he's left alone.
Himself, he cannot move.

He cannot walk.
He cannot talk.
It seems he is entrapped.
No working ear,
he cannot hear.
Could he be handicapped?

One might deduce
he's of no use
and futile is his time.
And I can tell
he cannot smell.
So poor, he has no dime.

Is he distressed?
Is he depressed?
His life seems very grim.
His name is 'Dirt'.
Should he not hurt
when we're ignoring him?

We pull his weeds
and plant some seeds -
then use the garden hose.
And with a flood
he turns to mud
as everybody knows.

When rain has poured,
we thank the Lord,
that food has filled our room -
then thank the sun
for what its done
when flowers are full bloom.

But how we hide
the dirt outside -
though we don't think we're mean.
Who understands
when washing hands
that we judge Dirt unclean?

We think we know
but wrath will show
when we are judged by God.
Who thanks that soil
for all its toil
when manicured our sod?

No one will thank
the Dirt's low rank.
We entertain with fun!
But Dirt, who cares
with your affairs
and work that you have done?

Can we not sit
and think a bit
of someone we have hurt?
Don't build a wall.
Please thank them all -
including Mister Dirt.

Apologize.
It's always wise
for we've all wronged someone.
Let's live in peace.
Let judgment cease
for God's work isn't done.

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Wednesday, April 12, 2017

Passed Quietly, the Waters By 4-12-17


The river stones were gathered 'round.
Their speeches and their words profound.
They thought they were the best on earth -
had much more value, much more worth.

Passed quietly, the waters by.
Most stones just laughed and wondered why...

The rugged stones had bragged aloud
below a soft and puffy cloud,
"We're mean and tough and really cool.
We are the best but you're a fool."

Passed quietly, the waters by.
Most stones just laughed and wondered why...

"Huge trees?  No match for guys like us!
You cannot answer nor discuss.
Our claims of greatness can't be beat.
This is our club - the great elite."

Passed quietly, the waters by.
Most stones just laughed and wondered why...

A tiger laid on rocky ledge
and peered below to river's edge.
The river stones looked way up there.
They were not scared.  They didn't care.

Passed quietly, the waters by.
Most stones just laughed and wondered why...

They laughed at the moon and at the sun.
They laughed until the day was done.
They laughed at all that they could see.
They even laughed at you and me.

Passed quietly, the waters by.
Most stones just laughed and wondered why...

One year they gasped and looked around.
The change in them was quite profound.
The years brought change that none could soothe.
Those stones were now, not rough, but smooth.

Passed quietly, the waters by.
Most stones just laughed and wondered why...

Most hadn't known just what took place.
Not many learned of God's good grace.
That it was His undying love
that showered down from up above,
that brought the rainbow and the rain,
that flowed downstream to ease the pain
of each and ev'ry hard, rough stone
so they might learn and might atone.

Passed quietly, the waters by.
Most stones just laughed and wondered why...

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Friday, April 7, 2017

Give Us Barabbas! 4-7-17


What caught the attention of that obtuse crowd?
What made them determined?  What made them so loud?
"Give us Barabbas!"  Can you tell me why
the people had int'rest in that evil guy?

Was he more exciting and spectacular?
Was he their big hero - strong, muscular?
Could he break big log chains right off of his wrists?
And did he boast laughing- then shake both his fists?
Was his voice like thunder with tongue hard as steel?
Oh, was the crowd taken and how did they feel?

Was it because Jesus stood motionless there?
Was it because Jesus did not have a prayer?
Was Jesus too loving t'ward innocent youth,
Was Jesus judgmental in speaking the truth?
Was Jesus too caring with his healing hands -
or was it because He had much greater plans?

There's no rhyme or reason, so often it seems.
It boggles the mind to such endless extremes.
So why did the crowd have Barabbas set free?
And why was it Jesus who died... and not me?

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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