Erasure Dust 5-9-12

Erasure dust was scattered 'round

my make-shift desk where I was found,

inside my garden court serene,

behind a stand of evergreen.

I should have guessed. I should have known,

mistakes I made were all my own.

I wrote too fast and wrote too long

when pencil slid on paper wrong.

Could all God's people understand?

I tried to move my shaking hand.

To reach lost souls is very tough...

Oh Lord, are these words good enough?

No, back and forth erasure moves,

erasing sins that pencil proved,

that sin's mistakes can ruin lives.

They make a mess as death connives.

And next to rose that set on desk,

erasure dust is so grotesque.

Confused, I was, and ill at ease,

at makeshift desk behind the trees.

The perfect roses, red and pink,

had really made me stop to think.

But if I quit, then life grows still -

so write, I do, and always will.

Though God forgives, the pain remains.

Distracting wrongs bring mental strains.

They bring us pain, great guilt and strife,

but God brings breath, forgiveness, life.

Oh, our mistakes will sometimes be,

yet grace through faith will set us free.

When God brings forth a stiff wind gust

and blows away erasure dust.

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Ephesians 2:8

For by grace you have been saved through faith;

and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God;

This Harp 11-18-09

The dust completely covered
the memories of old,
as I sat in my attic,
as melodies turned cold -
though still completely faithful
for all these many years,
I had no lone ability
to perk up hungry ears.

Until the seed was planted,
forgiven all, times seven -
until I grew through practice -
a harvest seen in Heaven -
until revived with water -
until restored with oil -
this harp was all but worthless,
lacked spirit through my toil.

BUT THEN set to a purpose
and held in humble love,
full notes created music
which floated high above.
This harp exposed a message,
and melodies took wing -
but only when His fingers
strummed each and every string.

©2009 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Psalm 147 (KJV) 6 The LORD lifteth up the meek: he casteth the wicked down to the ground.
7 Sing unto the LORD with thanksgiving; sing praise upon the harp unto our God:
8 Who covereth the heaven with clouds, who prepareth rain for the earth, who maketh grass to grow upon the mountains.

Desert Sand 9-24-09

One small tiny grain of sand
is not as bad as dirt.
It's just a little sin I said.
Now what can one grain hurt?

As life grew harder every day,
they started piling up.
And even though I got my way -
so empty was my cup.

Futility! I looked around -
no hills, the desert flat.
I thought I was so very good,
but this, could not combat.

Sandy dust blew in my eyes -
and stung where’re I looked.
The sun so high up overhead.
It really, really cooked.

No roads or paths, just emptiness -
in land that didn't care.
My feet were burning in the sand.
Suns wrath was everywhere.

I ran that I might save me.
I worked horizons line.
The waves of heat were rising.
I thought I'd saw a sign.

Those far deceptions seized me
with waves of heat thereon.
Those fun mirages fooled me
and kept me moving on.

But salty sweat stung open sores
though that was not the worst -
mirages never satisfied
nor ever quenched my thirst.

My muscles ached from head to toe -
but stop, I didn't dare.
I plodded on for days and days -
Not getting anywhere.

Finally, I stopped and dropped
and others I condemned.
Those tiny grains had bested me
and I collapsed on them.

For hours I lay there helpless -
prayed selfishly for rain -
then fell asleep exhausted -
done in by tiny grain.

Then I awoke quite suddenly -
with sand still on my face.
Showers blessings pelted me -
and that, my friend, was grace.

I thanked the Lord profusely -
this selfish, evil man.
I turned my faith to heaven then.
I knew that this God can.

Just one tiny grain of sand,
held innocently in hand.
Once a tiny sin I said,
but now I understand.

©2009 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Revelation 7:16 (NASB) "They will hunger no longer, nor thirst anymore; nor will the sun beat down on them, nor any heat..."

Dust To Dust 1-26-09

From the ground with dust, formed man.
Oh, this world that God began.
He had only asked for 'trust'.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

And of the fruit, creation ate -
so plowed he fields, outside the gate.
Was from the garden thrown, unjust?
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Man confused, but thought so great -
so man, an idol did create -
which then decayed in rot and rust.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

So ascertain his final fate -
for man still thinks at this late date,
that knowledge proves he's so robust.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

The clock keeps ticking - marches on.
It's certain who we call upon.
Into the future we are thrust -
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Close it now, the vast division,
God or self, it's your decision.
Life moves swiftly, dawn to dusk.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

©2009 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

Hebrews 9:27 (KJV) And as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment:

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Our Treasure Cove 7-7-06

I am human. My God divine-
but yet I cling to what's not mine.
I hold on tight and won't let go,
but finally give a mite or so...

I drove one day. I drove and drove-
away from my dear treasure cove.
I saw His beauty was so free,
but there was not one speck in me.

I tried to run far from the truth,
and tried to buy back all my youth;
but then God spoke so brutally,
and crushed my heart that I might see.

I was no cup with just some cracks,
but crushed to dust. It's just the facts.
He paid just once - but paid it all,
so why not me? I heard His call.

We are human, God divine,
you might have yours, but God has mine.
My treasure cove is very bare.
God owns it all. It's only fair.

©2006 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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