Poetry
To Do List From God
I ran my life in search of worldly things;
My time and will were firmly in control.
I thought I had no need for what God brings;
I gave no heed to murmurs from my soul.
“You’re planning, doing all the time,” it said,
“But something else is missing deep inside.
Your mind is whirling, but your heart is dead,
So turn to God and let go of your pride.”
I did, and God said, “Here’s My plan for you:
Give your life to Me, and just let go.
Have faith and pray, and read the Bible through,
And you’ll have blessings more than you can know.”
So simple, yet it brings me perfect peace,
Living life for God the way I should.
Direction, purpose, fullness and release--
Life with God is very, very good.
By Joanna Fuchs
My time and will were firmly in control.
I thought I had no need for what God brings;
I gave no heed to murmurs from my soul.
“You’re planning, doing all the time,” it said,
“But something else is missing deep inside.
Your mind is whirling, but your heart is dead,
So turn to God and let go of your pride.”
I did, and God said, “Here’s My plan for you:
Give your life to Me, and just let go.
Have faith and pray, and read the Bible through,
And you’ll have blessings more than you can know.”
So simple, yet it brings me perfect peace,
Living life for God the way I should.
Direction, purpose, fullness and release--
Life with God is very, very good.
By Joanna Fuchs
You’re Always There for Me
When the world comes crashing in
And chaos rules my mind,
I turn my heart to you, Lord,
And pure, sweet peace I find.
You lift me out of trouble
You comfort me in pain;
You nourish, heal and cleanse me,
Like cool, refreshing rain.
In times of joy and bliss,
When things are going right,
You lift me even higher,
And fill me with delight.
You listen to my prayers;
You hear my every plea;
I’m safe because I know
You’re always there for me.
By Joanna Fuchs
And chaos rules my mind,
I turn my heart to you, Lord,
And pure, sweet peace I find.
You lift me out of trouble
You comfort me in pain;
You nourish, heal and cleanse me,
Like cool, refreshing rain.
In times of joy and bliss,
When things are going right,
You lift me even higher,
And fill me with delight.
You listen to my prayers;
You hear my every plea;
I’m safe because I know
You’re always there for me.
By Joanna Fuchs
Save Me
Save me from myself, Lord;
Save me from my need
To always run my life, Lord,
To control my every deed.
Save me from my pride, Lord,
My focus on just me;
Help me learn to serve, Lord;
Show me how to be.
Save me from the world, Lord,
When tempting things entice;
Remind me of eternity
With You, in paradise.
I give my life to you, Lord
My every need you fill;
I’m resting in my faith, Lord;
You saved me, and you always will.
By Joanna Fuchs
Save me from my need
To always run my life, Lord,
To control my every deed.
Save me from my pride, Lord,
My focus on just me;
Help me learn to serve, Lord;
Show me how to be.
Save me from the world, Lord,
When tempting things entice;
Remind me of eternity
With You, in paradise.
I give my life to you, Lord
My every need you fill;
I’m resting in my faith, Lord;
You saved me, and you always will.
By Joanna Fuchs
Before The Altar
Before the Altar, bowed, he stands
With empty hands;
Upon it perfumed offerings burn
Wreathing with smoke the sacrificial urn.
Not one of all these has he given,
No flame of his has leapt to Heaven
Firesouled, vermilion-hearted,
Forked, and darted,
Consuming what a few spare pence
Have cheaply bought, to fling from hence
In idly-asked petition.
His sole condition
Love and poverty.
And while the moon
Swings slow across the sky,
Athwart a waving pine tree,
And soon
Tips all the needles there
With silver sparkles, bitterly
He gazes, while his soul
Grows hard with thinking of the poorness of his dole.
Shining and distant Goddess, hear my prayer
Where you swim in the high air!
With charity look down on me,
Under this tree,
Tending the gifts I have not brought,
The rare and goodly things
I have not sought.
Instead, take from me all my life!.
Upon the wings
Of shimmering moonbeams
I pack my poet s dreams
For you.
My wearying strife,
My courage, my loss,
Into the night I toss
For you.
Golden Divinity,
Deign to look down on me
Who so unworthily
Offers to you:
All life has known,
Seeds withered unsown,
Hopes turning quick to fears,
Laughter which dies in tears.
The shredded remnant of a man
Is all the span
And compass of my offering to you.
Empty and silent, I
Kneel before your pure, calm majesty.
On this stone, in this urn
I pour my heart and watch it burn,
Myself the sacrifice; but be
Still unmoved: Divinity.
From the altar, bathed in moonlight,
The smoke rose straight in the quiet night.
By: Amy Lowell
With empty hands;
Upon it perfumed offerings burn
Wreathing with smoke the sacrificial urn.
Not one of all these has he given,
No flame of his has leapt to Heaven
Firesouled, vermilion-hearted,
Forked, and darted,
Consuming what a few spare pence
Have cheaply bought, to fling from hence
In idly-asked petition.
His sole condition
Love and poverty.
And while the moon
Swings slow across the sky,
Athwart a waving pine tree,
And soon
Tips all the needles there
With silver sparkles, bitterly
He gazes, while his soul
Grows hard with thinking of the poorness of his dole.
Shining and distant Goddess, hear my prayer
Where you swim in the high air!
With charity look down on me,
Under this tree,
Tending the gifts I have not brought,
The rare and goodly things
I have not sought.
Instead, take from me all my life!.
Upon the wings
Of shimmering moonbeams
I pack my poet s dreams
For you.
My wearying strife,
My courage, my loss,
Into the night I toss
For you.
Golden Divinity,
Deign to look down on me
Who so unworthily
Offers to you:
All life has known,
Seeds withered unsown,
Hopes turning quick to fears,
Laughter which dies in tears.
The shredded remnant of a man
Is all the span
And compass of my offering to you.
Empty and silent, I
Kneel before your pure, calm majesty.
On this stone, in this urn
I pour my heart and watch it burn,
Myself the sacrifice; but be
Still unmoved: Divinity.
From the altar, bathed in moonlight,
The smoke rose straight in the quiet night.
By: Amy Lowell
