Poetry
You Carry Me
Brittle, Little Pieces
The Battle Against Co-Dependency
Night Songs
Emmanuel
A Glory Tree
Rare Love
Faithful Servant
My Tomb is Empty
Call Incoming
You Carry Me
I look into these hands
and it seems so empty there.
But Your eyes are not my eyes;
I know not how well I fare.
I look into this heart;
I see so much pain and strife.
But deep beneath the surface,
there's the knowledge that You're Life.
I stretch these hands to You
and they come back to me full.
I lay my head on Your chest
and my life's no longer dull --
It's full of beauty rare
for the ashes that I've known.
Oh, I am a stranger here;
Your Love is my glimpse of home.
I give You all my worry
and the things I must endure,
for they're not mine to carry
and, of that one thing, I'm sure.
How can I carry those things
when, my God, You carry me
and feed me the Bread of Life,
while You make me what I'll be?
"Only for a time," You say.
"Believe that this soon will pass;
Know that I Am, Beloved;
I'm the First. I Am the Last."
© Joyce Pool
Brittle, Little Pieces
Ecclesiastes 3:11 He hath made every thing beautiful in his time: also he hath set the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end.
I have to admit it:
I’m a little gun shy.
Okay,
so I’m a lot gun shy.
I run and hide,
and even weep
at the sound of a cracking whip.
But the Word once told me
that I could look
into the face of a storm,
speak His Name,
and hear the thunder
fade
into a faraway,
whimpering whisper.
My legs are little weak
and I’m just a little shaky
on my feet.
I still fall occasionally,
but not nearly as often
as I used to.
But the Word once told me
that I’d mount up with wings...
that I’d run down a mountain,
faster than a chariot...
that He’d be my strength
in times like these...
that all things are made beautiful
in His time.
I think I might grow up
to be a strong,
graceful gazelle someday,
leaping tall mountains
in single bounds.
I don’t make many
sudden movements;
something might shatter
inside of me.
Hey, He’s just now getting
all those brittle,
little pieces
back where their supposed to be,
making me whole again.
But the Word once told me
that He'd take
all those brittle,
little pieces,
those minuscule grains of ash
and give me beauty...
that I could speak to dry bones
and they’d rise up
and live again.
And well,
He breathed into me
and now, I'm learning
to truly live.
I see who I am.
He sees who I’ll be.
I don’t worry too much
about tomorrow;
though, sometimes,
well...
yes, I do.
But I take comfort in just knowing
that He makes all things beautiful
in His time.
The Word said He loves me,
just as I am.
And I know what I am
is not what I'll always be.
He watches over the little sparrows.
And I know He’s watching
over me.
© Joyce Pool
The Battle Against Co-Dependency
My flesh
warred with my spirit --
That learned trait
called "Co-Dependent Nurturer"
fought hard
to keep its place against
the inborn,
the God-created,
the Spirit-fed,
top quality, healthy trait
called "Natural Nurturer."
I COULD HAVE
loved you
to death.
I CAN
love you
into life.
But only God
can love you
into everlasting life.
"He said
'Let there be'
and there was.
He said
'Let there be'
and there was."
"... and He said 'It is good.'"
And it is good.
It is good
to know. Selah
It is good to know
that He looked at me
and said,
"It is good."
It is good to know
that the spirit man
prevails.
Mountains,
mountains,
be ye cast
into the seas,
in the Name of Jesus
of Nazareth --
not just the Jesus
that Paul preached about,
but the selfsame Jesus
whose Spirit
has taken up residence
in me!
Hallelujah!
It is good
to know
the Light,
that there was Light,
that there IS Light,
and that Light
is good.
And that Light reigns.
Father,
into Your hands,
I place my heart.
Please fashion it
with healthy
love.
Un-bearing tree,
be withered
where you stand.
"He created them
male and female
and He said
'In Our likeness,
we created them,
male and female,
and it is good.'"
He said.
It was.
It was good.
And it is good.
© Joyce Pool
Night Songs
There are sweet songs you sing to Me
in peaceful rest at night,
about a face that you can’t see;
Too holy is the sight.
But you can feel My presence there
and arms that hold you tight;
It stirs the songs, righteous prayers
of Love, and Truth, and Light.
There in your heart, buried deep,
where souls are still and quiet,
are those sweet songs you sing to Me
in peaceful rest at night.
© Joyce Pool
Emmanuel
Come,
Holy Fire.
Fall from heaven
to find Your place in us.
Purify us.
Sanctify us.
Refine us for the use
of Your hands.
Empower us
to do Your will.
Though we be changed,
though we be tried,
though You slay us,
should we travail all night,
even so,
come.
Come.
All honor
to the King --
God Is With Us --
He IS among us.
Jesus,
Bread of Life,
Our Portion,
we hunger.
Jesus,
Lifeblood,
Fruit of the Vine,
we thirst.
Lamb of God,
we hunger
for righteousness.
We thirst
for truth.
We have tasted
of Your goodness
and Your mercy.
Nothing else will do.
Jesus,
Provider,
Word of Life,
rain holy manna down
for us.
Fill our cups
with Living Water.
Holy Fire,
come.
© Joyce Pool
A Glory Tree
Ezekiel 47:12 "Fruit trees of all kinds will grow on both banks of the river. Their leaves will not wither, nor will their fruit fail. Every month they will bear, because the water from the sanctuary flows to them. Their fruit will serve for food and their leaves for healing."
Let me be a glory tree.
Water me with tears You’ve shed.
Let my branches be a place
for the Dove to rest His head.
Let the flutter of His wings,
as He builds His glory nest,
stir the scent within my leaves
to glimmer upon His breast,
so the breeze that touches those
who find solace in my shade
covers them in rainbow mist
from this glory tree You’ve made.
Let me flourish and abound,
my branches heavy with fruit.
Let it be a well toiled ground
in which I can spread my roots.
Let there be, beneath that soil,
solid Rock to steady me.
Let me be the Dove’s delight.
Lord Jehovah, let it be.
© Joyce Pool
Rare Love
I Peter 2:9 But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should shew forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvellous light;
I know you didn't hang it there,
but I saw you in a daytime moon.
I know you didn't plant them there,
but I saw you in winter blooms.
I see beneath the crevices
of rivers rushing in early spring.
And I see beyond the curtains
of many rare, uncommon things.
I believe, despite how you hide,
you see me in uncommon things too.
Don’t be afraid of what God made;
I may be rare, but Dear, I’m true.
Simple things sure capture my heart,
like a bluebird dancing in the trees,
like love songs whispered in my ear,
and a refreshing summer breeze.
Don’t you know, He made all those
to bless us because His love’s divine?
Don’t be afraid to trust in grace;
Let your uncommon hand find mine.
Come, sweet love; do not delay,
and give our uncommon lives a chance.
Cherish the rare things while you can.
Spy a bluebird in joyful dance.
© Joyce Pool
Faithful Servant
My good and faithful servant,
arms extended, as Mine own,
I've rewards set up for you,
for the mercies that you've shown --
Tender chest to lean upon,
(though they be caught in the snare)
for those in need of healing
and a softly spoken prayer.
Precious and faithful servant,
heart of mercy, as Mine own,
I prepare a feast for you,
as you bring my people home.
© Joyce Pool
My Tomb is Empty
The world may lie to you
and tell you that it’s fate.
But don’t believe it.
Don’t take the bait.
My tomb is empty!
I’m never late!
I will be there for you
and you won’t have to wait.
My tomb is empty!
I’m never late!
My tomb is empty!
My tomb is empty!
I’m here for you.
Just call out My Name
I’ll carry you through.
My tomb is empty!
I rose again!
Just call out My Name
And I’ll be there, My friend.
I’m never late!
My tomb is empty!
Call on Me, friend.
I'm not dead;
I rose again!
My tomb is empty!
© Joyce Pool
Call Incoming
I’m calling.
The alarm is nearly
as still and small
as the voice
that you’ve been given the choice
to hear
or not to hear;
Can you hear Me now?
If you listen
closely enough,
My voice
causes all that static
to dissipate
to nothingness --
that interference
to simply disappear;
Can you hear Me now?
I’m not that far away.
I’m Omnipresent --
as close as a prayer --
as near
as your own skin;
Can you hear Me now?
The power
of life and death
is in My hands.
I hold the keys
to both
heaven and hell;
Can you hear Me now?
Once in your lifetime,
the call of salvation
comes through
the loudest and most clear.
(No man comes to the Father
lest the Spirit draw him.)
I loved you.
I still do.
Can you hear Me now?
© Joyce Pool
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Joyce these poems are lovely, written from a heart that is filled with God and filled with faith, and filled with a desire to please Him above all else. Love, Sharon
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