My main site can be seen at www.ganderpoems.org Thank you! Enjoy! ~louis
Showing posts with label presents. Show all posts
Showing posts with label presents. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

A Simple Frame 1-10-12


With Christmas season over,
and presents put away -
with most the decorations packed...
what's wrong with life today?

My dead tree still is standing -
that I have yet to cast -
but cannot help but wonder -
has Christmas spirit passed?

That single, empty, simple frame,
is dead inside and out -
and seems to cloak the truth of what
pure 'Christmas' is about.

Although some evidence remains
with dead tree standing there,
needles scattered on the floor...
there's something in the air.

There's something that I'm missing.
There's something not routine -
and somewhere in this old dead tree -
there's something I've not seen.

Could I derive from hint and clue
if pieced, I could, together -
in my head, I wonder if -
I wonder - wonder whether...

My tree once held the ornaments...
Another held a Man!
And long before mere presents came,
the gift of grace began!

A simple frame against the sky
in perfect silhouette -
a couple thousand years ago -
if we can see it yet...

see, by Jesus' sacrifice -
that all God's grace is free -
if we confess and humbly trust,
our Savior faithfully!

Last Christmas never ended,
as I walk along life's way -
I will forever, always
live Christmas every day!

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Monday, October 5, 2009

The Memory Train 10-5-09


Break out from the darkness. Come with me and get lost -
back in memories, in days of cold and snow -
where freezing winds whistled - but love warmed us all,
in treasured trust, around the wood stove, those many years ago.

I remember nursery rhymes and childhood games - firm discipline -
and shaking the strong rough hand of the working preacher.
I remember the new shiny shoes, new suit and a thin bow tie -
on my first day of school with flowers, and respect - for the teacher.

Remember spring rains and warm summer breezes, puffy white clouds
and scary dark ones? Bright flashes of lightning out the windows, we'd look.
And then the roar of thunder shortly followed so very loud.
Hiding under covers, I cowered in darkness - when the whole house shook.

And when a lie was told, the taste of soap-
Mama and me at the basement sink.
Respect for authority, lesson learned,
as she saved me deep from the shadowed brink.

We learned respect for others
in those good old days -
with love expressed so humbly,
in many, many ways.

Presents wrapped in color with paper's love,
to stay unopened under the lit Christmas tree -
not to be touched until that sacred time -
as excitement grew in our whole family, and me.

Though suspense held us captive,
and time seemed to freeze - and stand so still -
never moving - as a train at a station.
There we waited, and waited - and waited, for the thrill.

Oh, that bitter and horrible word 'patience' -
when focused on 'self' - was the most difficult thing to learn.
No minute rolls, microwaves, fast foods or drive-ups -
but that difficult place strengthened us – where we should return.

Barefoot and poor, I did not expect very much.
But after the suspense and curiosity, beneath the wrapping and bow -
came the excitement of unwrapping a custom gift so discovered.
I'd let out a pressure of steam with a sigh, as I heard a distant whistle blow.

Mostly, I learned to love – a peaceful love for others,
Gifts not made overseas and bought from a stores, I remember.
We learned a homemade joy - made with our very own hands -
that gave us each a lifetime of keepsakes to treasure.

Not instant self-gratification and self-indulgence which holds for a time,
a very, very short time as mere pleasure in the day -
but then is thrown in the trash to be burned with fire -
to perish - where so many good truths, wisdoms and customs, also decay.

Today, broken are plastic parts from an assembly line -
that work for a time and were made for 'whomever'.
Where presents with parts, sometimes numerous, break and vanish -
disappearing from our memories - lost and forgotten, forever.

For many, those days of old are not to be remembered -
for they are just plain, downright rotten.
Pain and sorrow, loneliness and hurt, emptiness and anger –
that darken our character, are oftentimes best forgotten.

And just as darkness can never be removed from the shadow -
no dark soul can run from its past.
They cannot separate darkness from their shadow a mere inch -
though running from that shadow of death, no matter how far, no matter how fast.

And from generation to generation, the darkness from sins shadows,
continue to follow, at every breath and gasp -
for those who will never, ever change -
nor escape its final grasp.

We weep and shed our tears for others -
as love abounds - for indeed God first loved us.
So too, we love others. Yet truth hurts,
so we cry too, in love, just as our Savior did - Jesus.

Thanks to our great culture, and the character
and the teaching of a many great men -
who cared strongly and who loved deeply, and with God's grace so abundant,
we do escape those shadows, as faith leads us into light once again.

Where love [for family, friends and neighbors, and respect for neighborhoods,
for government, and church, and God - by every man and wife] -
exceed power and money, [stock markets, retirement plans, portfolio's, lotto's, gambling, pleasure, and self] - there is life, and it's a good life.

My grandfather and my grandmother, my aunts and uncles,
my father and mother, my sisters and brothers, who cared completely,
as a firm unit, as a golden chain,
tightly and closely linked together, gave me.

So now as I think back - every tear that I shed,
is not from the sorrow, nor of the shame,
nor of any guilt - but rather thoughts
of great times - from whence we came.

So we remember well - our treasures, our thoughts, our friends -
of yesteryear. Those ties that bind -
and are never loosed, never lost, never taken -
but freely given to each other, in kind.

The tickets are free and plentiful. Jump aboard!
Remember the good times - and not the filth and grime.
The whistle blows again, at the hard, cold track of time.
Friction forgives as wheels spin, and this is the last time - the very last time.

Gone forever, the guilt of mistakes made -
for grace holds forgiveness with heavy nails,
for a humble creation with box cars of good fruit,
in the straight and narrow of those faithful rails.

Oh, 'father time' is stubborn. He doesn't wait.
It's his train and he decides when it leaves the station.
The wheels spin and spin, faster and faster -
the engine chugs and puffs, toward the colorful setting of the sun.

Many blackened souls are lost, just as dollars slip through fingers.
They continue to stand by, lingering in the shadows.
They watch as the train begins to leave the station - unable to repent, or forgive.
Pride holds fast throughout eternity. Many can only listen as the whistle blows.

'Father time' carries us, you and I on this train.
Our memories of each other don't flow through our fingers.
Oh no. Memories may fade but we fold our hands, thankful for each special time -
those joyous, precious memories, not forgotten, but remembered - lingers.

And we smile -
as we travel with Jesus -
with great respect for our Engineer.
Who will jump on board with us?

Respect time. Come out from the shadows now!
Come back to a culture long ago forgotten. Do not let yourself be bound.
Come with me and get lost - on the memory train - to remember together,
another time and place, love in grace, peace and harmony - forever found -

by the Engineer,
our precious Lord,
we welcome you...
All aboard!

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

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Ecclesiastes 12:1 (NASB)
Remember God in Your Youth
"Remember also your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days come and the years draw near when you will say, "I have no delight in them"

Sunday, December 31, 2006

That Special Tree 12-06


When I was nine, we all were poor -
lived in a house with wooden floor.
At eight o'clock the clock would chime
and then I knew that it was time.
It was okay; I had but three -
Christmas presents just for me!
No gold, frankincense, and myrrh –
but ‘funner’ toys I would prefer!

I snatched the first one - it was small,
tore the wrapping, threw it all.
Pulled back the tape, opened it.
I then plopped down in one big fit.
In the bottom of the box,
I saw sand and a few rocks.
A note said, "Son - I know you care
about the Magi way back there."

They traveled far through desert sand,
not knowing where the star would stand.
It stopped above a stable where -
a baby laid in loving prayer."
As I looked up not very far
on top our tree we had a star....
I sat below that pretty tree,
all decorated, just so for me.

The second present – beautiful,
but what'd I find? -A ball of wool.
The note said, "Son, some shepherds came.
They glorified and praised His name.
“Our house is comfy and so warm,
no chills come in from snow or storm;
But not the stable there of old -
it was drafty, dusty, somewhat cold..."

But now the biggest one of all -
the third and last and oh, so tall;
I carefully unwrapped the bow -
with widened smile my face aglow.
I pulled the wrapping off a bit -
to read the box for what I'd get.
The box was simple. Just plain brown,
so then I tore the wrapping down.

Anticipation turned to shock,
as I spied in that bigger box.
I froze in full bewilderment.
I didn't know quite what it meant.
For it was empty. Nothing there!
Just a present full of air!
Except for yet another note,
signed by daddy - here's his quote:

"Baby Jesus, our present.
In His service, His intent,
He took our burdens, sin and strife,
so you might have eternal life.
Empty? No. This box is not -
and never will its contents rot.
This box is full. Don't think it's odd.
It's filled with love. A gift from God."

Then I woke up - was just a dream!
It wasn't daddy's funny scheme!
So many presents - many mine.
I put God off. There wasn't time!
First I'd enjoy my favorite day,
Full of candy, fun and play.
So many days - it finally came!
Christmas day - so I took aim!

I scrambled off my bed and ran,
down the hall with my big plan.
The tree looked tall. It seemed so far -
and way on top a big, bright star.
And in my socks across the floors,
I slid along past all the doors.
Down that hall into the room,
were many presents I'd consume.

The tree I ran to down the hall -
was somewhat different, somewhat small.
And I was caught quite unaware
as I stopped beneath our star up there.
Just like the wise men from afar,
that followed their revealing star.
Above the stable where it’d stay,
where donkeys stood and Jesus lay.

I could have sworn up there on top -
I thought I heard, "You're here, now stop."
But not above a stable's top -
this time below our tree I’d stop.
Not like the tree of long ago
but bright with ornaments aglow.
Not heavy timbers tied across,
where Jesus died upon the cross.

When only He could make me glad,
I wanted gifts from mom and dad.
Oh, those presents full of toys,
I ripped apart and made some noise.
“Dear God and Jesus - wait a bit.
I’ll play awhile and then I’ll quit.”
How awful, selfish, I became
as I trampled Jesus' name.

But later on, I humbly bowed,
on that floor not one bit proud.
I cried a lot. I cried out loud –
and let him cleanse my sinful cloud.
So through me see that special Star -
always near, not off afar.
-Still upon that special tree,
where Jesus died for you and me.

©2006 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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