My mind is prone to wander
my thoughts too often stray
to things I should not think upon
to thoughts that lead away
from thinking about pure things,
about the good and true
the praiseworthy, the excellent,
the thoughts that lead to you
Oh Lord I pray that on my head
your helmet you would place
the one that guards my wayward mind
with peace, with love, with grace
so that the things I do each day
will help me truly know
the depth and width of your great love
that my own love may grow
Based on Philippians 4:8 and Ephesians 6:17
My plate starts full at every meal
and by the end no crumbs remain
and yet too often I forget
that I am blessed, instead complain
of little things that matter not
I know that there are many who
don’t have the blessings I’ve received
and every time they find a scrap
of food to eat they are relieved
to know they’ll live another day
O Lord, forgive this attitude
I have of looking for the bad
O help me count my many boons
so that my heart might be made glad
then help me bless the ones in need
at NaPoWriMo, we have been given the prompt of writing about food. I wanted to do something a bit more serious, about how blessed I am…and yet how quick I am to count all the things that have gone wrong instead of countless blessings. The rhyme scheme was accidental (I was planning on xaxa,xbxb,etc, but somehow it felt “right” to have an additional unrhymed line at the end of each stanza.
Why do I cast my gaze downward
when troubles come my way?
When tormentors seem to come
from every side,
why do I despair?
I retreat like a turtle
within his shell when
the wicked come my way
even though I long to
stretch my wings and soar
high above these earthly trials.
But no longer shall my eyes be downcast,
for I know where I might seek help
and in whom I can take refuge.
I lift up my eyes to the mountains
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD
The maker of heaven and earth.
Italicized portion of my poem is Psalm 121:1-2 (NIV)
Written for dVerse, where Lynn has asked us to use mountains as our inspiration. Mountains and poetry made me think of Psalm 121 (a song of ascents).
Oh! thou countless points of light
that scat’red ‘cross the sky this night
thou dost create a wondrous sight
so even darkness becomes bright
thou shineth down on one and all
we look to thee and feel so small
it might be easy now to fall
down on our knees, and in thy thrall
call out to thee as gods afar
and pray to thee, “how great thou are”
to worship each and every star
that shines upon this orb of tar
but thou art tiny in compare
to the Great THOU who put thee there
at dVerse, the prompt is “stars”. Stars always remind me of how small I am in comparison to the vastness of the universe…but being one who believes in a God who created all, I need to remind myself that even the cosmos pale in comparison to the One who made all.
I have been consciously avoiding iambic poetry for a while, but felt the need to write in that meter today. This is iambic tetrameter.