Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Looking Up 11-25-09


Is forgiveness easy? Is love enough?
Why is living today so tough?
Some days are better , some certainly not -
when crying through pain a lot.

I go on living - remembering 'bad' -
with so many memories sad.
Oh, why is forgetting so awfully hard -
in blocking memories scarred?

If I could only go back some days -
and maybe turn some different ways....
but nothing can change, as facts seize me tight -
these truths I can never fight.

Do I still cry out reserving my cup -
or drop it all and tilt my head up -
to thorns on the head and nails in the hands -
of Jesus who still understands?

©2009 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Matthew 26:39 (KJV) And he went a little farther, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt.

Friday, November 20, 2009

Caged 11-21-09



A bird chirped loud - said "See what's ours
on this side of your safety bars.
So come and grasp your freedom now -
enjoy these twinkling stars."

"You know that I am also free
and everything, can also see -
here in the comfort of my home"
I said so gleefully.

He chirped again there on the ground,
"Experience this life profound."
So decidedly, I chirped again,
"I like what I have found."

"Just try to understand my plea."
he chirped high from an apple tree.
"My owner too, will come for you"
I quipped triumphantly.

That pesky bird had quite an edge,
He landed on my window ledge!
So turned I back to owner, vowed,
"I'm staying here, I pledge."

She said sincerely, "I love you"
so I told her, "I love you too.
You gave me such a perfect place -
and give me such a view!"

So then that pesky bird took flight.
With me, it couldn't win a fight -
and though I understood his way -
was certain I was right.

That pesky bird had quite a tale,
but my demands would all prevail.
My owner, all I'd ever need -
and her, too big to fail.

Oh, I clung tight to selfishness -
my good entitlements a 'plus'.
I didn't care for other's needs -
nor 'rights' of theirs discuss.

Yes, I had dignity and pride -
until that day my owner died.
With not one seed, with water gone -
tightly locked, I was inside.

Then angry got, was so enraged -
here locked inside my little cage.
My freedom I had so dismissed -
starvation then, my wage.

Had chances to escape, a few -
but didn't from this life I knew.
Last thing I saw, that pesky bird -
pulling up a worm or two.

©2009 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Jonah 2:6 (NASB) "I descended to the roots of the mountains The earth with its bars was around me forever, But You have brought up my life from the pit, O LORD my God."

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

This Harp 11-18-09


The dust completely covered
the memories of old,
as I sat in my attic,
as melodies turned cold -
though still completely faithful
for all these many years,
I had no lone ability
to perk up hungry ears.

Until the seed was planted,
forgiven all, times seven -
until I grew through practice -
a harvest seen in Heaven -
until revived with water -
until restored with oil -
this harp was all but worthless,
lacked spirit through my toil.

BUT THEN set to a purpose
and held in humble love,
full notes created music
which floated high above.
This harp exposed a message,
and melodies took wing -
but only when His fingers
strummed each and every string.

©2009 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Psalm 147 (KJV) 6 The LORD lifteth up the meek: he casteth the wicked down to the ground.
7 Sing unto the LORD with thanksgiving; sing praise upon the harp unto our God:
8 Who covereth the heaven with clouds, who prepareth rain for the earth, who maketh grass to grow upon the mountains.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Best Friends 11-16-09


Am I best friends with Jesus?
Does friendship really pay -
when troubles seem to always come
and things don't go my way -
when sunlight sets in darkness,
yet Him I must obey?

Am I best friends with Jesus?
Does friendship really pay -
when pain and sorrows come about -
and my heart, heavy weighs -
when others seem successful
while I'm in disarray?

Am I best friends with Jesus?
Does friendship really pay -
when this world's full of vultures
and turns me into prey -
when enemies surround me -
yet focused I must pray?

Am I best friends with Jesus?
Does friendship really pay -
when living in this sinful world -
residing day to day?
Am I His loyal soldier -
through love above the fray?

Am I best friends with Jesus?
Does friendship really pay -
if to myself I'm focused with -
and Jesus I betray?
If clay becomes the potter -
where is the faith in clay?

Am I best friends with Jesus?
Does friendship really pay?
Because He came to bear my cross
is friendship then okay?
Are both my eyes on Jesus -
committed ALL the way?

©2009 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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John 15:13 (NASB) Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends.

Monday, November 9, 2009

The Sands Of Time 11-9-09


Time is ever constant
on table's level line -
the hourglass sets steady.
It's all in God's design.

Will pride still hold me hostage,
tied tightly to my chair
and sitting at my table -
while sands are sifting there?

When I see that hourglass
and wear, if I, a mask -
questions must be answered,
if questions I can ask.

Will guilt and sorrow overcome
when sinful shadows cast -
if humble, I, right where I am,
repent of failures past?

Will perseverance ponder
tempations endless goal -
if faithful, I stand steadfast
in whom I can extol?

Final sand still empties out
and grains, will fewer be.
The hourglass sifts steady.
The sands of time test me.

When the hourglass stands empty,
and life's race I have run -
will God look back upon my life
and say the words, "Well done"?

©2009 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Matthew 25:29,30 (NASB)
29 "For to everyone who has, more shall be given, and he will have an abundance; but from the one who does not have, even what he does have shall be taken away.
30 "Throw out the worthless slave into the outer darkness; in that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth."

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Perfection's Promise 11-8-09

There is no perfect paper,
there is no perfect pen.
There is no perfect poem
that can be told by men.

There are no perfect phrases,
that offer perfect rhyme.
There are no perfect voices
to comfort us this time.

We chart our many poems
and give them all a grade -
or pass them off as faulty -
ignore, lest truth invade.

Poems by the millions
can offer but a clue -
to how our Savior really felt
when He was torn in two.

Though not a bone was broken,
though not a word was said -
Jesus broke that perfect mold
and showed us love instead.

If we can't see perfection,
from love that God bestowed -
from love that Jesus gave us,
from love that Jesus showed -

If you can't see perfection
in poetry and all -
then you will never understand
and God will never call.

So take this very poem
and rip it all to shreds -
if you can't see the promise
in what our Jesus said.

However, if your heart is soft,
if humble you can be -
if you can rip yourself from pride -
then Heaven you will see.

There is no perfect poem.
Perfection never starts -
unless we see God's promises
down deep within our hearts.

©2009 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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John 3:16 (KJV) For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Insignificant? 11-7-09


Are we so blind in our own little world -
can't see our own ship's demise -
and feel deep down an emptiness
with insignificant eyes?
Yet do we love life's dangers,
and into the tempests lean -
with all our focused attention on
this world's corrupted scene?

Are we so deaf in our own little world,
when waters send warning tears -
that we can't discern the crashing waves
with insignificant ears?
And do we love life's dangers
that envies what sins enjoy -
with all of our selfish actions,
with insignificant noise?

Are we so wrapped in our own little world,
balled up as some yarn and strings -
yet hanging from a single thread,
with insignificant things?
Oh, the storms that God allows
as we tighten ourselves in chains.
We cannot break free from greed and lust
with insignificant brains.

When temptation's storm keeps tossing
our ships on the mighty sea,
are we so lost in our own little world -
we can only think about "me"?
When waters keep rolling and breaking
our ships against angry waves -
will cries be screamed at Heaven to
a Jesus who truly saves?

Would God send His Son with His infinite love,
with insignificant goals -
to have Him die on an old rugged cross
for insignificant souls?
Certainly not! We're meaningful -
we faithful sons and daughters.
Grace is sufficient against all storms.
Let Jesus calm Life's waters.

©2009 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Galatians 3:26 (NASB) For you are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus.

Monday, November 2, 2009

The Hourglass 11-2-09



Who begins the timeline,
life's hourglass, brand new?
Excitement grasps first days of life
as grains of sand slip through.

Youthful times surround us.
We lack full wisdom's clue.
We learn to make decisions though,
as grains of sand slip through.

Middle age is stressful
with obligations due -
so we go about our business
as grains of sand slip through.

Oh, to know the answers -
and every facet knew -
so we prepare the answers then
as grains of sand slip through.

With sunset years upon us,
we find God's Word is true -
but still the days flee fast from us
as grains of sand slip through.

Who holds our real value -
and have regrets, will you -
as the hourglass stands empty and
the final grain slips through?

©2009 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Ecclesiastes 9:12 (NASB) Moreover, man does not know his time: like fish caught in a treacherous net and birds trapped in a snare, so the sons of men are ensnared at an evil time when it suddenly falls on them.