Long Hopeful Poems
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November 26 Faith in God Bible Meditations Based on Romans 8-10
Key Verse – Romans 8:28 And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.
FAITH IN GOD WHO WORKS ALL THINGS TOGETHER FOR OUR GOOD
God works all things together for our good by His truth’s decree
Along His salvation’s gift, so rich and free
Indeed, recreating us become what He wants us to be
For our spiritual growth through faith as His branches in a fruitful tree.
God works all things together for our good by His graciousness
Along His redemption’s assurance of marvellous delightfulness
Indeed, securing us against sin-captivity’s wretchedness
For our productive labour through faith as His believers of righteousness.
God works all things together for our good by His might and the Holy Spirit
Along His sanctification’s cleansing from carnality’s pit
Indeed, purifying us to be heavenly-fit
For our bright testimony through faith as His children of Scriptural writ.
God works all things together for our good by His leadership
Along His adoption’s protection around His offered relationship
Indeed, offering to us sweet friendship of His joyous fellowship
For our victorious stewardship through faith as His heirs in His partnership.
God works all things together for our good by His compassion
Along His justification’s act that prevails midst pardon’s provision
Indeed, making us guarded against hell’s oppression
For our peaceful walk through faith as His beloved with Biblical vision.
God works all things together for our good by His omnipotence
Along His transformation’s power of miraculous persistence
Indeed, molding us for ministry-involvement’s competence
For our triumphant obedience through faith as His worshippers with hopeful existence.
God works all things together for our good by His honourable authority
Along His glorification’s wonders and supreme sovereignty
Indeed, enabling us to serve Him along serene humility
For our praise-filled gratitude through faith as His followers with sincerity.
November 26, 2025
Tinkle of chime, of time, of blizzard blast.
The kids are off and hope for snow to gush.
The skies are scanned with hopeful overcast.
Return to school where teachers rule and crush?
The teachers lie, they’re paycheck low - want snow.
Attention scowl would pass with gassy clouds.
An arctic blast would cause their cheeks to glow;
Call buses fast, and cheer the plucky crowds.
The tender swirl of flakes, pug noses pressed
against the icy breath of Jack Frost’s muse.
The bump and toss, the smudge of Winter’s zest.
Imaginations clip, as yellows cruise.
Angels, in divine white, do flap each wing.
Their mirthful shake upon the earth’s offspring.
I miss the colorful past.
I remember how it would blow past me,
encompass my entire being.
Its hues gave me hope,
made my chest swell with glee
when the pure lights danced upon my fingertips.
Until everything changed.
It was when it turned into different shades of grey.
When the memories created despair instead of joy.
They were drug along my skin, deeper and deeper,
leaving big, bloody gashes that wouldn't heal.
My retired dreams, dead right in front of me.
The dreams that had been reality,
now faded into my lifeless corpse.
My dreams, they were snatched away
along with the freedom to be with them.
It was when the sickness spread among us,
when we quarantined to save ourselves,
that I grasped onto my perfect actuality,
desperate to keep it safe, conserve it,
but it slipped through my fingers.
And so I was alone again.
Those dreams died out.
Dreams of real friendship.
Dreams of belonging.
Dreams of recently-found normalcy.
Dead, disrupted, dysfunctional dreams.
My painfully perfect, dreamy, recently retired reality.
The colorful, hopeful, clear past
is now ash that blows past me,
pieces tangling themselves into my hair,
bringing sharp pain instead of bittersweet hope.
Where did the blissful life go?
Will she return or is she gone?
Will she truly be dead forever?
Everything is bland now,
both memories and body.
We are lifeless.
I miss the colorful past.
Written: August 24, 2023
______________________________________________________________
Let me solemnize this ritual divine,
And let the melody of life ever intertwine.
On this journey, I aspire to find
A world where possibilities truly unwind.
Beneath the azure sky so vast and wide,
A sense of freedom encompasses me inside.
I feel the charm of acceptance in the air.
Where judgment and prejudice are nowhere.
When jade lawns absorb dawn dewdrops,
I am reminded of nature's gentle backdrop.
And in that moment, I felt the soft breeze.
Lightens the heaviness of my heart with ease.
Let this serene azure define my hope.
A beacon of light in life's kaleidoscope
In times of darkness, when all seems lost,
I wish for a glimmer of light, at any cost.
To restore my faith in the beauty of the day,
And guide me in a bright, hopeful way.
Embracing life's serenade, I strive to be
Avail to the harmony that surrounds me.
For in each note and rhythm that resounds,
I find solace in the melodies that astound.
In the symphony of life, I dance and sway.
With every beat, I feel my worries fade away.
Let the lyrics of joy and laughter cram my soul.
As I embrace the music that makes me whole.
With each verse, I find the strength to endure.
To face any challenge, to be steadfast and sure.
Embracing life's serenade, I find my peace.
In the rhythm of existence, all worries cease.
For in the symphony of living, I am alive,
With every note, I feel my spirit thrive.
The doctor told us,
“He doesn’t have long left to live”.
He could say that again,
I already know,
So his voice to me is nothing but howling winds.
Blowing angrily,
Trying to devour my hopeful,
‘Maybe-pointlessly-so’ grin.
But really these are times we thought we’d grieve.
Sitting at the foot of his bed,
Just staring like this feeling isn’t really grim.
Everyone’s smiling,
But we came here thinking he’s probably dead,
Everyone’s lying,
Saying we always believed in him.
These tears were hiding,
Couldn’t believe it when we saw,
Just him in the hospital bed,
With a smile.
A pointless,
Hopeful,
Grin.
God loved me through my anger
from me He never waned
In spite of my bad behavior
His mercy towards me never changed
God loved me through my anger
He's saw beyond my pain
He understood I felt hurt
defeated and strained
God loved me through my anger
He forgave my sins
He overlooked my malfeasance
and embraced me once again
God loved me through my anger
He saw beyond my pain
He understood I felt hurt
defeated and strained
In the midst of my anger,
God saw my potential
He prayed I'd be restored
hopeful and essential
anger is the opposite of righteousness
anger is emotional callousness
God loved me through my anger
He's saw beyond my pain
He understood. I felt hurt
defeated and strained
I now stand at His altar
To Him I now submit
for He loved me through my anger
and to Him I recommit
God loved me through my anger
He saw beyond my pain
He understood I felt hurt
defeated and strained
God loved me through my anger
He saw beyond my pain
He understood I felt hurt
defeated and strained
Its not hard--its very simple
To put a smiling happy dimple
On a strangers frowny face
You could be their saving grace
From a day that will not end
Cause of sorrow life may send
Their way , you can start
To mend the pain inside their heart
One kind word, action or gesture
Can make their bad day get better
It doesn't take much time to
Help someone who's going through
A heartbreaking time and they
Just need a light to shine their way
You can be the hopeful beacon
The positive they have been seekin'
Come on--let's give it a try
Don't think about the reason why
If we all lend a happy smile
It changes a life for a while
As I age in place
into awareness of replaceability
I bow to humbling curiosity,
Whether more anxious
or anticipating,
I remain conflicted
About predicting
a win/win global healthy climate
sustainable outcome
In which my own anthroprivileged species
grows in ecological curiosity
and theological humility
Enough for winning healthy Earth
restoring justice,
inclusive
or exclusive?
of us.
A peaceful paradise of curious promise
for resiliently wealthy
multicultural ecofeminists
of all seeing/hearing EarthMother species
AND our leftbrain dominant
StraightWhiteMale capital growing fragile
and increasingly wounded Allies
Or will this Great Green Transition
end and recycle back again
a healthier peace and justice Earth
devoid of inhumane
predative
overpopulated rabid hetero-unsapient pests?
While this winEarth/loseAnthros
heart-stopping vision fails to mention
all the further kinship species
we have already helped exterminate
and will continue to take out with us,
Still
stunned
shunned
I remain quietly hopeful
that a seventh great extinction
might never come to be
before Second Comings
Of Edenic Civility
bereft of straight either/or lined
leftbrain dominant distractions
Extractions
from right interdependent circling
spiraling feeling
abundant historical multicultural traction
for healthy democratic energy
empowering flow
and enlightened nature/spirit MultiSpecies
Worshipping
polyculturing sensory resonant pleasures
of resilient health wealthy climate paradise
Recovering
old aging wonder,
humbling
and still actively curious
how EarthMother healthy ends
And rebegins
re-ligions wealthily ever after
with Yang empowering
Yintegral enlightening balance,
Either both/and way,
humane-divine hybrid consciousness
of
merely sublime natural
sensory aware
animating spirits,
Breaths of incoming
outgoing life
as love
regeneratively prevails.
And yet
I cannot resist some attachment,
as I limp toward my own ego-recentering
ultra-nonviolet
compassioning horizon,
Rooting for this new global age
of Green Cooperative EcoNonPaternal-Privileged
already leading our nonviolent communion
toward a resiliently restorative EarthJustice Way,
A curious winning for AnthroTribe
also winning Earth GreenPeace
to health/wealth new deal Thrive.
Cold Dandelions Crept Across My Heart
Cold dandelions crept across my heart
deep rooted daggers plunging to my depth
tentacles of love’s now lingering lie
fester within the remnants of the feast.
Death, absolve me, release this victim spent
remove this numbing cold from frozen heart
cloak me in the dark rapture of your love
grant me the succor of your emptiness.
Sweet ebony seep through my every thought
slow soak away the trace of hopeful pain
ease now my broken spirit into peace
quiet the murmurs of the dying beast.
Love’s brutish death has called my time too soon
thus I await the freedom of your touch
take me lest my awak’nings torture fate
lay me beneath the stone of love’s cold heart.
©6/2/2017
submitted to - A STUNNER 2017 - Poetry contest
sponsor - Line Gauthier
As Horatio Spafford crossed the sea, passed the spot where his four daughters lay, he looked to the heavens and penned a great hymn. He had lost a son and business in the great Chicago Fire as well. He was now to join his grieving wife and would eventually have two surviving daughters, one who would take in orphans. It is well...it is well with our souls.
When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say
It is well, it is well, with my soul
It is well
With my soul
It is well, it is well with my soul
Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul
It is well (it is well)
With my soul (with my soul)
It is well, it is well with my soul
My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, o my soul
It is well (it is well)
With my soul (with my soul)
It is well, it is well with my soul
It is well (it is well)
With my soul (with my soul)
It is well, it is well with my soul
SAVED ALONE
helpless to save,
hands slipping...slipping—away
fire and water, mixed
with our Savior’s blood.
when the heart sinks—
to the lowest depths
how does one find
—-bliss?
how does one sing,
lift
one’s eyes to the royal skies?
clouds roll, reveal
the bluest eye,
cold steel
determination in tears.
something
to hold dear.
waves billow and roll,
swallow body of stars.
familial remnants
without mother or father—
waiting
for the one yet to be born—
born indeed,
to hold hopeful eyes—
feed their souls
is one of their stories
yet to be told…
Spaffords’ tearful hug
in heavenlies—
Jesus’ wet palm.
hope sailed, faith stretched—
it is indeed well...well with our souls.
11/19/2020