Pauper, King or I 9-14-11

From New York, Cairo or Beijing,

and whether pauper, me or king -

You can find us when we're lost -

and You don't charge - there is no cost.

I cannot look You in the eye -

for oh, so little faith, have I.

All jumbled with mistakes today,

I struggle for some words to say.

The paupers beg and get their bread -

their stomachs speak until their fed.

The servants jump when their king calls

as his word echoes through the halls.

Yes, paupers beg and Kings decree -

but who can hear my words, but me?

I'm so confused and so resigned -

Your answers, I can't seem to find.

I try to listen with both ears,

pray Your answers calm my fears.

I need Your wisdom, need Your aid,

I'm so distraught and so afraid.

I stumble through life's desert sand -

that's dry and hot. Please hold my hand.

My life is mixed up, a montage -

is this a dream, a mere mirage?

I wait for Your most tender tug.

I need a special, loving hug.

Though even with a sincere kiss,

I yet again would fall amiss.

Although I study, work and learn -

I really have no place to turn.

So stumble I, the narrow, straight,

until arriving at Your gate.

Your grace has triumphed over foe,

and why You listened, I don't know -

for You have seen the way I live,

so why, Lord, do you still forgive?

---

What 'lot' in life that we are giv'n,
matters not with grace from Heaven -
so whether pauper, king or I -
"For God so loved..." and that is why.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

John 3:16 (KJV)

For God so loved the world,
that he gave his only begotten Son,
that whosoever believeth in him
should not perish,
but have everlasting life.

One And Only 1-23-11

One day soon we'll leave this world -

this world of wicked sin -

so where's the key to Heaven's Gate,

that we may step right in?

It isn't found in idols,

the silver, gold or wood -

It isn't found inside a prayer,

nor through intentions, good.

It isn't found in our career,

nor through some unclaimed perk -

It isn't found by our own hands,

nor through our greatest work.

It isn't found in churches,

or found inside a hymn.

It isn't found in human thoughts

nor through our newest whim.

It's not found in theology,

nor through man's greatest book.

It's found in yet another place -

...if only we would look.

God created just one key,

to fit in locks designed,

to hold the gate to Heaven shut -

and it's the one to find.

Heaven's gate accepts one key -

and it's the only one -

forged by grace and turned with faith

in His begotten Son.

Heaven's gate, forever locked

and firmly shut, will be -

unless within our heart we hold

that one and only key.

©2011 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

Sounds of a Snowflake 12-20-05

A children’s poem with a message for all…

Shhh! Little children. Gather 'round,
Hear the raindrops falling down?
Watch and listen, hear the sound?
-That pitter, patter all around?

However, should the moisture freeze,
Before it falls into the breeze;
And blows around your little feet,
You'll never know which ones will meet.

Stand real still and do not meddle,
Can you hear the snowflakes settle?
No you can't - and why's it so?
Where does the sound of a snowflake go?

They gather here, they gather there,
Each one different - no matching pair.
They settle in - as a marching band,
Yet quietly, contour the land.

We're all like snowflakes, each our own,
Some are small - some overgrown.
Under a heavy blanket of snow,
You'll find me there - somewhere below....

I'm but just one of many more.
I’m helping hold - the upper floor.
Let others bask out in the sun,
Get tossed around in wind with fun.

For I may not be king or queen,
Always heard - and always seen.
It's all okay.... I am content,
The rest can fight and circumvent.

But if you know, just what you'll be,
It matters not to an angry sea;
Go if you want and make some noise,
But remember this, you girls and boys:

Some climb the biggest, highest tree,
And yell out orders breathlessly;
But in the end, it's not to be.
It's all a waste – futility!

It's not the din we make at birth,
That gives us special rights on earth;
It's not about the clothes we wear,
Or the gossip we might share.

It's not about the ground we tilled,
Nor all about the wealth we build;
It's really what you leave behind,
And whether you were fair and kind.

Eventually, the warm wind breaks,
And melts the coldest, biggest flakes;
They travel ditches - travel streams,
Travel creeks - with no more dreams.

Most will melt - in torrents roar,
And while they melt, they're wanting more;
It's really all, just up to you,
Who you'll be, and what you'll do.

But don't take Satan's awful blow,
When life is over and the rapids flow;
Screaming in anxious, helpless woe, because -
That's where the sounds of a snowflake go.

Did we exist? Will history show?
Who we were - or where we'd go?
It matters not, to me, you see,
For I have God - eternity.

Content and peaceful you will be,
-If you're a snowflake just like me.
Before I see that pearly gate,
It's me, who'll quietly evaporate.

©2005 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

James 4:14 (NASB)
14Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away.