At Weakest Point 5-12-18

My precious little children

grew up so very fast.

Oh, why does time keep fighting me

and stealing all my past?

My little girl was precious,

a vibrant little flower.

So why has time come to a stop -

in this, my darkest hour?

My photos and mementos

have faded very fast.

Oh, why does time keep fighting me

and stealing all my past?

My keepsakes, lost forever,

have turned my stomach sour.

So why has time come to a stop -

in this, my darkest hour?

I worked hard for my family.

I built my business fast.

Oh, why does time keep fighting me

and stealing all my past?

My business, lost forever

and gone, my tallest tower.

So why has time come to a stop -

in this, my darkest hour?

All is gone and all is lost.

My life is fading fast.

Oh, why does time keep fighting me

and stealing all my past?

In fetal pose, you watch me now.

I fear, I shake, I cower.

So why has time come to a stop -

in this my darkest hour?

I find myself afloat on tears
that flow so very fast -
ignoring God who could have been
in all my sorry past.

At weakest point, He lifts me now

with His creative power!

And now I know why time has stopped -

in this, God's finest hour.

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Jesus Blessed 4-20-18

An ear of corn was bragging so

with kernels bright and gold.

"Just look at me!  Just look at me!"

he shouted loud and bold.

Well, this provoked the big, tall stalks

that stood there proud and tall.

"Without us you'd be rotting in

the field dirt, one and all.

The dirt felt somewhat slighted then

and said the bragging hurt.

You'd both be short and sickly if

not nourished by us dirt.

The water spoke up then to say

"There's something you should know.

Without the moisture from the rain

not one of you could grow."

The sun kept right on shining as

he heard the others boast.

He warmed the ground and ears of corn.

He knew what helped the most.

Humility was lacking, but

the truth the sun could see -

that all must work together long

before the corn could be.

The sun knew that not one of them

was better than the rest.

And each of them in their own way

was really 'Jesus blessed'.

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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It's So Unfair 4-8-18

My mom was simply wonderful.

She had a magic touch.

And mother loved my father too.

She loved him very much.

I never heard mom say a word

when dad would spend the funds -

though mom had many stressful days

to feed her hungry sons.

Recalling often all the ways

that she conceived a meal -

concoctions never mixed before,

ingredients unreal.

One bite would be like chewing foam,

the next so leather tough -

while I and brothers sitting there

would have to eat the stuff.

But weight upon the shoulders from

abuse is very great.

I think I have much empathy

but how can I relate?

I heard the whimpering at times.

I sometimes saw the tears.

It's so unfair to have such love

and then to persevere.

So many things are left unsaid.

What more must I explain?

Have I hurt someone like my mom?

Have I caused someone pain?

Who loves me more than mom loved dad?

What else is there to know?

How many tears does Christ still shed

because He loves me so?

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Seasons 3-25-18

DEATH is the winter of sin and shame,

of pride and blame,

of guilty name,

of danger's ice,

of bad advice,

of heavy price.

LIFE is the springtime of seeds that toss,

of logs across,

of Christ on cross,

of blooming earth,

of our rebirth,

of valued worth.

WORK is the summer of fresh, clean rain,

of sweat and pain,

of growth and grain,

of appetites,

of peaceful nights,

of what excites.

LOVE is the autumn of harvesting,

of lauded sing,

of Thanksgiving,

of Heaven's grace,

of special place
and Jesus' face.

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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With Life Anew 3-3-18

Like Eden's garden, park was still.
A perfect place right up until -
the selfish played.

The lake was smooth, as smooth as glass -

but then a breeze came rolling past -

as they all played.

A dark cloud seemed to push the breeze

that whispered firmly to the leaves -

while they had played.

Then all the grasses wiggled too

and seemed to toy with breeze that blew -

as they had played.

A couple squirrels in a tree.

First I saw two, then I found three -

and they had played.

A couple toads jumped stone to stone.
Together, they were not alone -
and they had played.

Some floating leaves rose with each wave.

First up, then down, they'd misbehave -

as they had played.

We all endured the passing wind

that we had felt while others sinned -

when they had played.

And when the winds had caught my ear,

the storms of certain wrath were near -

while they had played.

The wrath of God was imminent

but habits fixed, were like cement -

so they still played.

The storm clouds, close, were now a threat -

but not a drop had fallen yet -

so still they played.

Then suddenly, a lightning blast -

brought thunder's roar and down-burst fast! -

so wet they played.

Unfaithful ones, now surely stuck,
were washed away in mudslide's muck.
T'was overdue...

But faithful ones above the sod

had found down-pouring grace from God

...with life anew.

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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