Poem: Thank You, Good Shepherd

 

Thank You, Good Shepherd

(Celebration in my town Ede)

 

Thinking about this summer,

I want to thank You Lord.

Many forests are on fire,

but our woods are still green,

and we celebrate our purple heather.

 

Horrible wars are going on

- Lord have mercy-

but peace is still here.

Missile strikes in Ukraine in our news,

-we hear in our prosperous town

as it were their distant sound-

but here is Your gracious joy.

 

Thank you Lord for some rest in my house,

And hope amidst creepy experiences.

Good Shepherd of my town,

Shine the light of powerful hope 

all over the earth.

 

Thank You Jesus, thank You Father,

thank You Spirit of God.

 

Let it be that the whole world be well aware

of the beauty of the salvation of Jerusalem.

 

 

My Poem: A Landscape: Meadows On The Water

A Landscape: Meadows On The Water

Peacefully I am listening to my piano,

my notes view out of the windows:

there are meadows on the water.

In those rusty fields children are playing

with little airplanes, yelling to the kids in the other section.

Spectators are standing next, watching the little giants.

They say: they are my offspring, some are.

Giving good advice to their sneakers.

Others point at the sun: look, it's red with those beautiful

purple and black flames! And cows are grazing in the sky,

eating the green clouds.

Close by a farmer called Lighthouse is standing on a lighthouse.

He waves of course with his handkerchief to the fisher boats:

"look! The firemen are extinguishing the bubbling water, there is fire

beneath, they assume. What are we going to do?"

A sick boy playing with the sun calls his dad: "my head, my head!"

His Abba trumpets the radiating farmer: "bring him to his mum,

the one with the azure shining dress.

He will be healed."

A Few Haikus

 

The Way of Winter

 

 

The Way of Winter

 

The sun is shining, weary of winter

I long for light and the colors of the coming

season, serve me more spring! The sooner

the better. The bitterness of evil episodes is

more difficult to deal with in deep darkness.

 

He went his way, one lick of lightning and

he has evanesced to elsewhere,

leaving me lonesome.

Silenced seems our fixed forecast

of heavenly hope. What happened here with

our constant calling out for God's grace,

for healing and wholeness. Are our dreams dead

or shall they show up to bloom like blossom

in the season of spring, magnifying the mercy

of the Loving Lord… to taste His truth?

 

Abigail Valkenburg