The PoetVangelist

'Tis agony To see, but not visualise To touch, but not caress ... To love, but not make love: The sum total; the axis, the graph The full picture of what we aspire to do In the waiting between making one from two ... Or rather, Three Cause He's the motivation, isn't He? His Will is the altar upon which we lay These sensations plaguing us night and day. We burn As the world watches in disbelief Urging us to claim sweet relief We yearn So deeply to become one But still, feebly, for His will to be done. For now deriving our pleasure only from His, May He be pleased by our willingness. Whenever this smouldering desire threatens to rise And our frantic efforts to bank it Reach His understanding eyes, May He bless and aid our efforts; though lowly a gift May He look upon our intentions a pleasing sacrifice. Amen.

O the bitter shame and sorrow That a time could ever be When I let the Saviour's pity Plead in vain and proudly answered: All of self and none of Thee All of self and none of Thee Acquiring more but gaining less Today's definition of living blessed What is it to give and sacrifice? Lose it all now to save eternal life? Wistful... Wistful hearts whispering faintly our lukewarm convictions Courting the illusion of gaining Heaven All the while trapped. Imprisoned- Immobilised, paralysed by our many earthly addictions. Yet He found me, I beheld Him Bleeding on the accursed tree Heard Him pray: 'Forgive them, Father' Then my wistful heart said faintly: Some of self and some of Thee Some of self and some of Thee More, more: me, my, mine Idleness to wealth since water to wine Jump and shout, holler and faint What use to pray, work and wait? Plagued by duplicity Two kings in this one city God and mammon, common and Holy And yet, how can this b...