To every laborer in God’s own field
Who comes with their sickle, ready to wield,
Eager to work with all of their might
To bring in the harvest that’s golden and white—
The Laborer
Faith
The Rose
The funny thing with roses, they start as just a bud;
Some take so long to open, they seem like just a dud.
But no amount of wishing will make them open up,
Like no amount of wanting removed the bitter cup.
Grandpa, the Mulberry, and Me
Author note: I posted this on the one-month anniversary of my Grandpa’s passing. Enjoy.
Once there was a mulberry tree—
Planted when the kids were young;
And like the growing family,
It also upward sprung.
Sticks and Bricks
We all know the story of the three little pigs—
Two built houses of straw and twigs;
Not wanting to work in the heat and the sun,
They chose instead to play and have fun.
And they mocked the third pig for his planning and care
When he laid out a structure that was sturdy and square.
For he didn’t fall for the quick, flimsy fix,
But carefully built a house made of bricks.
Potential
The breeze washing over me, from where does it come?
The passing bumblebee, how does it hum?
The chasing birds, how do they fly?
And why is it blue—the heavenly sky?
No Works, No Wonder
The drought was getting serious,
The situation bleak,
And for the want of sustenance
The village was getting weak.
And the thing that was most needed,
On the hot and thirsty plain,
Was a life sustaining downpour—
A good old-fashioned rain.
Look and Live
Thundering forth from Sinai’s height
With lightning, smoke, and fire light—
An invitation to take God’s grace,
And prepare the soul to see His face.
Yet Israel’s children with hardened heart,
Chose, instead, a lesser part.
Pioneer
A teenage boy treads alone, a road that’s dusty, dry;
The cigarette in his hand, glows against the starry sky.
And in this place his soul is stirred by heaven’s holy hand,
And he wonders if there is a God and what He might have planned.
The Mother Who Knew!
There’s a tale of a mother who lived in a shoe,
When faced with a challenge knew not what to do.
So the family had dinner without any bread—
Then she spanked all her children and sent them to bed!
Why we rehearse this nobody knows,
So let’s faithen the story and see how it goes. . . .
Endure Well
Don’t give up. Photo by Gabriela Palai.
As you walk the lonely road. . .
Mile after mile
Without expected blessing,
This may be your trial.
But if you’ve done what you can
And still must wait awhile;
Don’t give up my faithful friend—
Delay is not denial.
Once Upon A Rhyme 