Storm Winds Blow

Storm winds blow,
Within and without.
Threatening.
Violent.
Overwhelming.

Why are we here?
Where is our help?
Hidden?
Unbidden?
Yes, I am here.

Peace,
The Master says,
Be still.
Peace,
The Master says,
Come out.

Chains abound,
Within and without.
Helplessness.
Hopelessness.
Out of control.

Why are we here?
Where is our help?
Hidden?
Unbidden?
Yes, I am here.

Come, where I go.
Come, where I am.
Beyond what’s safe.
Beyond what’s known.
Come,
To the other side.

Peace,
The Master says,
Be still.
Peace,
The Master says,
Come out.

Come, where I go.
Come, where I am.
Beyond what’s safe.
Beyond what’s known.
Come,
To the other side.

Patricia Burlison
©2016

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Our Hope Is In ___?

Our Hope Is In ___?

Why do we hope in armies?
Why do we hope in guns?
In the weapons of this world?

Why do we hope in power?
Why do we hope in our way?
In the systems of this world?

Why do we hope in comfort?
Why do we hope in safety?
In the reflexes of this world?

Why do we hope in churches?
Why do we hope in doctrine?
In the patterns of this world?

When Love, never failing,
When Love, ever waiting,
Is here, within our call.

 

Patricia Burlison
©2016

It Just Made Me

Could we possibly say
“My heart, it just made me,”
When we look in the face
Of our deadliest foe,
And dare live out grace?

Could we possibly say,
“My heart, it just made me,”
When we stand side by side
With the stranger among us
And say, “Please abide?”

Could we possibly say,
“My heart, it just made me,”
When we let go of judgment
And know that the other
Is our self as well?

Could we possibly say,
“My heart, it just made me,”
When, to give and receive,
We choose forgiveness,
As we choose to breathe.

Patricia Burlison
©2015

Willing to Hear?

The whole world is crying,
Are we willing to hear?
Hear the moans of injustice;Hear the cries of despair;
In our busy distractions,
In our bold certainty?

The whole world is crying,
Are we willing to see?
See the chains we have forged;
See the tears we have wrought;
In our search for our comfort,
In pursuit of our own?

The whole world is crying,
Are we willing to touch,
The ones we call dirty;
The destroying fire;
With hearts full of life,
With hands bathed in love?

The whole world is crying,
Are we willing to know
The pain of the other
In the depths of our soul?

Patricia Burlison
©2014

Grace

Grace
the essence
of God
on us
good and bad
weak and strong
His hand
on our lives
His breath
in our spirits

Grace
the story
of God
whispered
and sung
in creation
in us
listen
and know
His love

Grace
the life
of God
in Christ
in us
breathe in
breathe out
release
and receive
Grace

Patricia Burlison
©2013

In His Love, Courage

In love secure
I challenge fears
Trusting beyond
All that appears
To stop me
To crush me
To cause me to yield
To comfort
To safety
To what is known
And instead
I will walk
In the way of my Lord

 

Patricia Burlison
©2013

When God Became a Child

Did he
Scrape his knees,
Stub his toes,
Have dirty nails,
A runny nose?
Just like you,
Just like me,
When God became a child?

Did he
Clap for joy,
Run full speed,
Watch an ant,
Plant a seed?
Just like you,
Just like me,
When God became a child?

Did he cling to Mom,
Follow Dad,
Love them both
With all he had?
Just like you,
Just like me,
When God became a child?

Did he
Hold his breath,
Count to ten,
Giggle a bit,
Enjoy a spin?
Just like you,
Just like me,
When God became a child?

Did he
Spread his arms
With the wind,
Watch the trees
Sway and bend?
Just like you,
Just like me,
When God became a child?

Did he
Say his prayers,
Cuddle up tight,
Watch the stars,
Want a kiss goodnight?
Just like you,
Just like me,
When God became a child?

Did he
Play in mud,
Walk in the rain,
Feel the cold,
Have a pain?
Just like you,
Just like me,
When God became a child?

Did he
Raise his hands,
Ask to be held,
Rest secure
Trusting all was well?
Just like you,
Just like me,
When God became a child?

He was a little boy.
He was God’s great joy.
He gave up majesty.
Became like you and me.
It’s unbelievable.
It’s unexplainable.
That God became a child.
God became a child?
Yes, God became a child.

 

Patricia Burlison
©2003

What a Wonder

What a wonder, baby boy.
You will be your mother’s joy.
Such a tiny gift you are.
You shine for me, a precious star.
God has blessed me and I sing.
He has told me you’re our king.
I know not how this came to be.
I’m in awe that He chose me.

Such perfection in my hand.
I don’t claim to understand
How His purposes work out.
I will trust Him when I doubt.
I accept the gifts He gives.
I submit my will to His.
And when He lays His call on you,
What He asks is what you’ll do.

My heart is full my little one.
Heaven’s gift, my own son.
Many wonders I have seen.
I’m not sure what they all mean
But I’ll hold them in my heart,
Treasures for when life grows dark.
God will reveal His plan in time,
But for now, you’re simply mine.

 

Patricia Burlison
©2004

Shepherds Watching

What a night
Amazing sight
Shepherds keep watch
O’er the Shepherd of Life

Those who watched
By starlight
Now called to see
Our Watcher of night

Leaving their flocks
Now they find
Our King who left
Majesty behind

Lacking all
They receive
Emmanuel
As the angels sing

 

Patricia Burlison
©2010

Eternal Words

Across the skies the stars stood guard
And one obeyed a whispered word.
It was to shine a special light.
Serve as a sign.Serve as a guide.

Across the earth the angels watched.
One was given a calming word.
Fear Not! would be the theme proclaimed
That would speak of peace,
That would speak of hope.

Across the fields the shepherds lived.
The ones to hear the angel’s word.
And they would hurry to this babe.
They  would come to see.
They would come believe.

Across all time creation stilled
And One was born the living Word.
His hands would hold eternal life.
He will be our price.
He will be our King.

Across our hearts the wind still blows
Bearing the everlasting Word.
It seeks to saturate our lives,
Guard us on our way,
Guard us through each day.

Across the years I’ll learn to seek
The richness found inside His Word
And plant it firmly in my soul.
This is how I’ll grow.
This is how I’ll live.

 

Patricia Burlison
©2003

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