Lady Waiting
Page 7
Your heart’s declaration is found in my child.
Such love I feel, a love that grows with each day;
So precious the knowledge it won’t go away.
It’s destined to blossom... but oh the wait!
Eagerly I plan for the expected day.
My reason for song will no longer be words I say
Because all credit will fall on you, the father of my babe.
Words fail me as I gaze upon my man,
His eyes he does not lift from the bundle in his hands.
This man strong now finds he cannot move;
His heart has melted over a baby new.
His hopes, his goals, everything he’s planned
Has been devalued by this infant in his hands.
That look. That touch. Such pride and joy,
This perfection is his whether girl or boy.
So moving is this sight never will I deny
Myself again the chance to see it, perhaps many times.
Yes, words fail me but I don’t need them to capture worth
For great joy is also mine for granting him the miracle of birth.
For always (a child’s eyes)
From summers on the beach and running hand in hand
To skipping through the waves and building castles in the sand.
From catching wind tossed leaves and pulling rampant weeds
To plotting landscaped gardens and planting chosen seeds.
From planning joint adventures excitedly each year
To laying firm foundations toward my hoped career.
From childhood I’ll emerge as new pathways are tried
To knowing I’ll always remember these moments by your side.
To be a mum
Noise, noise, noise!
Children and their toys.
To gain control I raise my voice
Then find I’ve killed their fun.
Oh God, why did you let me be a mum?
Mess, mess, mess!
It always looks like this.
I want the place to look its best
Not the product of a bomb.
Perhaps I should not have been a mum.
Time. “What time?”
Every mother cries!
Oh to do something that I like, but
Too well I know they’ll soon be gone;
Somehow I must prize my time as mum.
Gone, gone, gone;
Leaving one by one;
My little girls are moving on.
Soon I know their time will come...
God help them each to be a better mum.
Rebecca’s farewell
Wrapped is nothing but tomorrows
A little seed was entrusted to my hands.
In warm rich soil I placed it
And pondered the plant that would be grown.
Against disease and pest I guarded it,
Ensuring every need was met.
Now there stands a tree where once that seed was sown.
Though it seems but yesterday
My hands were given such a seed,
A lifetime has filled me and left me this day
As I watch her leave my hands a rose.
Mother hen wings
“Come home, Love... even for a little while.
“Have a break. Things will look better from here.”
“I can’t Mum. I can’t get time off work,
“And I couldn’t leave Mick…
“I just needed to talk to you, Mum. I miss you.
“I wish you could give me a hug.”
My eyes begin to well as a mother’s prayer is lifted high:
“Lord, please hold my baby girl, wrap her in your love;
“Make her happy once again
“Because I can’t bear to hear her crying,
“And I can’t alleviate her pain,
“When she’s so far from home and these
“Mother hen wings of mine.”
Plenty
I want to reap a harvest,
To taste the succulent fruit. But first,
I have to be given a seed.
I want to share the fruits of love -
Tenderness, warmth, sincerity, joy. But first,
Love has to be given to me.
The mould is love
Love has been brought to me in the image of a man.
Such love, such devotion is hard to understand.
Under all my failings Lord, you see the way I’m meant to be,
And with firm gentle urging you draw me close to Thee.
Though surrender to your hands begins a life of tests,
Acceptance of your Son ensures my path is blessed.
Your indwelling Holy Spirit bears testimony to your grace,
So each day my grateful heart does pray:
“Lord, may my life reflect to all the image of your face.”
Again, love is brought to me in the image of a man.
My heart’s response? “I must replicate it if I can.”
Through twin sons I’d like this merit to be shared,
From the twinkle in his eyes to the colour of his hair.
Flip sides of every trait. Nothing left to chance.
Undisputable the image – his worth in a single glance.
To see this vision realised earnestly I pray
With lips and heart as one to say:
“Lord, may love continue printing the image of his face.”
Her father’s daughter
I watch, I laugh, I share her pain
Then cry because she does not bear your name.
She’s bound to one who does support her,
One too proud to see the truth - she is her father’s daughter.
Her face, her ways, her cheeky grin
All portray the form she was moulded in.
She walks in steps that were not taught her;
Just her presence sings her song: “I am my father’s daughter.”
I hope, I wait, I’m praying still
That not just your image but your arms she’ll fill.
Honour at last will be restored her;
The day you’re heard to say: “I’m the father of my daughter.”
The Father’s love
The Father’s love is patient,
The Father’s love hears not the beat of time.
The Father’s love is bidding;
Let his glory shine.
Gather all you sons of Jacob;
Hearken too you daughters;
Let Zion wear her crown.
The Father’s arms are yearning
For the children of his love.
Come now in his presence,
All you jewels of his crown.
Salvation today
Circumcision of the flesh,
This of Abraham did God request.
A promise in the emptiness. An act of faith.
A child in the wilderness - a nation today.
God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob
This covenant we’ve kept,
Our blood we’ve shed.
Circumcision of the heart,
This of us does God now ask.
A desire to return to him. An act of grace.
A place in eternity - salvation today.
God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob
This covenant you’ve kept,
Your Son’s blood you shed.
God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob
This covenant is kept;
Bound together by blood that’s shed.
The great I AM
Creator – yes, the great I AM;
Creation comes from you.
Lover of creation,
Let this creature be everything you planned it to.
A jewel in your crown,
Yes the sparkle in your eye.
The spring in your step,
Yes one who brings you pride.
The song in your heart,
Yes one th
at makes you smile.
The reason that you live,
Yes the one on your mind.
The cause of your strength,
Yes the one in whom you delight.
Yes I am impetuous; you are the one who is my balm.
Yes I am emotional; you are the one who keeps me calm.
Yes I am imaginative; you are the one who sees it too.
Yes I am indolent; you are the one who spurs me on.
Yes I am original; you are the one who keeps me true.
Creator – yes the great I AM,
Creation looks to you;
Lover of creation,
Keep this creature close to you.
9Making sense of the picture
Behind the veil
The soft fading sunlight casts a sombre portrait,
A stark and lonely shadow: a silhouette against a wall.
No depth, no substance, no thoughts to meditate;
Just hopes and dreams to fashion purpose in it all.
The gentle hand of God reaches down to nestle over me,
To see this emptiness appeased with a promise of eternity.
A rose among the thorns or a weed amid the blooms?
Swept up with the multitude as time goes rolling by -
Lips move, words fall, hanging limp in crowded rooms;
Face to face a moment then parted with the tide.
The Lord himself has come in love to walk this road with me.
He is my Lord and my Saviour. He is everything I need.
A glistening falling snowflake is lost upon the ground.
The seasons tumble over... the breath of life is gone.
No light, no dreams, no questions left to understand,
Just an image in the mirror as time has ambled on.
From the very outset God has set his heart with me;
There is purpose in his footsteps, peace in his plan revealed.
Windows in skin
Through windows in skin
We see reflected the image of the nature within.
Take the cat in soft lovable form.
Rubbing, purring yet too well you know
It would kill your bird
Then think nothing of expecting a gentle stroke.
Through those eyes heartless and gold
We see the truth –
The cruelty of the nature within.
The world is full of such contradiction.
Exception is rare.
One is the dolphin. A master of display,
Sleek in form, a smile wide. It beckons to play,
Cackling along with the game;
Ready to help if you need support.
Through those eyes intelligent, humane,
We see the nature inside matches
The form it’s set in.
Justifying my reserve the case was closed.
I remained a prisoner of my fear
Till like that dolphin someone I did meet.
One whose perfection was a matching
Of inside and out.
He coaxed. I tried to let go.
“He’s just a man, Lord.” I reasoned.
Human. Flawed. Such was how I felt.
“My child, have I not chosen him?”
How could I answer? Against the Lord I could not speak.
Under the Father’s approving eyes,
He coaxed and I let go.
The Gem Cutter’s window
I asked my love: “What makes you so sure? How do you know I am the one?”
He replied:
“Let me tell you a story, believe me, every word of it is true.”
“I dreamed I was in a hall or some such place,
“All around me was a priceless jewellery display. “‘Spectacular’. ‘Beautiful’. Each piece made these words easy to say.
“Then I noticed there in the centre of this place
“A single piece set in a locked glass case.
“I couldn’t take my eyes off it; not a word could I say.
“So absorbed had I been I’d not noticed someone standing next to me.
“‘Beautiful isn’t it?’ the Gem Cutter said to me.
“Without waiting for my speechless response he further stunned me.
“‘Would you like to hold it?’ he said taking out a key.
“He opened the case then presented that piece to me.
“‘If you’ll come here each day... yes, until the show is over,’ he said,
“It is yours to keep.’ ”
“On the day I met you and you stood facing me
“I knew in an instant the reason for my dream.
“You were the one, and just as in that dream the scene robbed me of speech.
“This time to my surprise, the Gem Cutter’s key was your response to me.
“The Gem Cutter shaped you so he knew - he’d planned what each would see.
“He prepared us for a walk that would stretch to eternity.”
“I know you are the one for me.
“You’re not just the woman of my dreams,
“You are the Gem Cutter’s promise to me.”
Life without love
Life without love is like a tank lacking water.
It has the potential to hold so much,
Give so much, yet remains empty.
To witness drought breaking rain falling…
To hear water filling dry tanks…
How can such emotion be contained?
Every good and perfect gift is given from above;
To overflow our life with blessings,
To reveal how much we’re loved.
Treasure-trove of love
Ali Baba called: “Open sesame.”
Our bounty is revealed with a soft “I love you.”
This simple whisper magically surrounds us
With a treasure-trove of love.
Countless priceless riches are there for the keeping:
Smiles, surprises, gentle touches, intimate moments.
Each memory lovingly labelled ‘Thank you.’
‘Thank you for being here.’
‘Thank you for caring.’
‘Thank you for loving me.’
‘Thank you for being you.’
A treasure-trove of love - with simple words we whisper.
All his glory
Behold the peacock’s plumed display -
Confidently he makes his statement plain:
“No other creature is thus arrayed!”
This splendid metaphor declares a story -
That of a man in all his glory.
All heed the mighty lion’s roar;
Authority’s been his since flesh was formed.
His pride is what he lives and fights for.
Not words but awe in this powerful story
Speak of a man in all his glory.
Oh the sight of a thundering steed,
Snorting, prancing with the wind on his heels.
He is broken if he is not free.
It takes respect not skill to grasp this story -
To hold a man in all his glory.
Man was made in the image of God,
A reflection of the perfection above.
Life and fulfilment granted through love.
A place of honour is woman’s story -
Beside a man in all his glory.
Female of the species
Since the beginning,
As with Regula Enge
l and Joan of Arc
The female of the species
Has been assertive - an iron-willed maiden
Embracing death to prove
Life for all could be the way she dreamed.
Since the beginning,
As with Cleopatra and Marilyn Monroe,
Woman’s allure has symbolised
What every man’s soul does crave:
Possession of all that was offered
When God first presented him with Eve.
Since the beginning,
As with Caroline Chisholm and Mother Teresa,
This nurturer of humanity
Compassion she has served.
Amid the trials of flesh and blood
Her softness extends God’s boundless care and love.
Since the beginning,
As with Abraham’s Sarah and Churchill’s Clementine,
A lady by her man has stood.
A pillar of devotion,
Humbly to absorb then reflect
The honour bestowed upon her man.
Since the beginning,
With each the Lord with purpose he has made.
The female of the species
Is a mystery on display.
Carousel gone wild
Images spun around me like a carousel
Gone wild. Some were up, others down;
Some were dark, others light.
I marvelled at the scene like a dizzy
Spinning child. I then saw as it slowed down
This spectacle was my life.
It occurred to me why I’ve not enjoyed this ride -
You’re meant to enjoy it, not fear and frown
Or you’ll hate it all the time.