Jesus Walked This Lonesome Valley

(for the coming of Lent):


Jesus walked this lonesome valley;
He had to walk it by Himself.
Nobody else could walk it for Him
He had to walk, walk it by Himself.

                --African American spiritual

Joy to the World

(A paraphrase of Psalm 98, with images from the Sierra Nevada Mountains)
Joy to the world, the Lord is come!
Let earth receive her King;
Let every heart prepare Him room,
And Heaven and nature sing.



Yosemite Falls, Yosemite National Park

Joy to the earth, the Savior reigns!
Let men their songs employ;
While fields and floods, rocks, hills and plains
Repeat the sounding joy.



Yosemite National Park

No more let sins and sorrows grow,
Nor thorns infest the ground;
He comes to make His blessings flow
Far as the curse is found.

He rules the world with truth and grace,
And makes the nations prove
The glories of His righteousness,
And wonders of His love.

Bridal Veil Falls, Yosemite

---Isaac Watts, 1719

Choreographed

Nature's singing me her song,
And around me is a dance:
      The sunlight on the water,
       The aspens' quaking leaves,
       The playful dragonflies,
        My own two happy feet.

 

My heart is filled with wild joy;
I know who wrote the song:
       He gave it melody
       And wove in harmony;
       He sets its steady rhythm
       And makes the whole world dance.

You hear the moments out-of-tune
When Nature's lost the harmony;
     But my Composer saved a better song
     To sing another place...
     Where melodies are never sad,
     And the only song is love.

                     
    ----C. Marie Byars; Ft. Jackson, SC; May, 1986
          [written with memories of the southwestern U.S. in mind]
 

Come Unto Me, You Weary

“Come unto Me, you weary,
And I will give you rest.”*
O blessèd voice of Jesus,
Which comes to hearts oppressed!
It tells of consolation,
Of pardon, grace and peace,
Of joy that has no ending,
Of love which cannot cease.
 
 "Come unto me, you wanderers, 
And I will give your light."
O loving voice of Jesus, 
Which comes to cheer the night!
Our hearts were filled with sadness, 
When we had lost our way;
But He has brought us gladness 
And songs at break of day.

"And anyone who comes forth, 
I will not cast him out."
O patient love of Jesus, 
Which drives away our doubt,
Which, though we be unworthy 
Of love so great and free,
Invites us very sinners 
To come as we may be!

--William C. Dix, ~1867; adapted c.m.b., 2014

Dix wrote of this hymn:

I was ill and de­pressed at the time, and it was al­most to idle away the hours that I wrote the hymn. I had been ill for ma­ny weeks and felt weary and faint, and the hymn real­ly ex­press­es the lan­guid­ness of bo­dy from which I was suf­fer­ing at the time. Soon af­ter its com­po­si­tion I re­cov­ered, and I al­ways look back to that hymn as the turn­ing point in my ill­ness.

*"[Jesus said]' 'Come unto Me, all you who are weary and heavily burdened, and I will give you rest.  Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light.'"  (Matthew 11:28-30)
 

Me and Baby Jesus

(A Houston Christmas)

A Way in a manger,
No hat for my head,
The little lord Jesus
At least had a bed.

The street lights above
Dim the stars in the sky....
Can He see me down here
As I close my eyes?   
  

"Hark" the corner carolers sing
And Army bellers with baskets ring.
Sirens sounding break the night,
Wholly, wholly, wholly fright.

Be near me lord Jesus
I beg you, I pray.
Don't ever leave me,
Or at least til it's day.

Bless me Father for I have sinned.
Come Lord Jesus, Be our Guest,
Quickly, Amen!

No crying He makes
Tho He took All our pain.
He's the Joy in my world,
A warm heart in cold rain.

        






Dogs bark, and babies wake,
Here I lay for Heaven's sake.
From Heaven He came,
To Heaven He'll take -
Me, and Baby Jesus. 

--Carolyn Crandell Koch (c)2013

Author's commentary:   I was inspired to write this while at church I sat and sang, yet I thought about the men on the corner looking for work, or the homeless. I felt in contrast yet I also felt hope, as I know Jesus came down to save us from our lowest points of grief, pain, sin, and ultimately death.

The Autumn

Go, sit upon the lofty hill,
And turn your eyes around,
Where waving woods and waters wild
Do hymn an autumn sound.
The summer sun is faint on them --
The summer flowers depart --
Sit still -- as all transform'd to stone,
Except your musing heart.
 

How there you sat in summer-time,
May yet be in your mind;
And how you heard the green woods sing
Beneath the freshening wind. 

Though the same wind now blows around,
You would its blast recall;
For every breath that stirs the trees,
Doth cause a leaf to fall.

 

Oh! like that wind, is all the mirth
That flesh and dust impart:
We cannot bear its visitings,
When change is on the heart.
Gay words and jests may make us smile,
When Sorrow is asleep;
But other things must make us smile,
When Sorrow bids us weep!

 

The dearest hands that clasp our hands, --
Their presence may be o'er;
The dearest voice that meets our ear,
That tone may come no more!
Youth fades; and then, the joys of youth,
Which once refresh'd our mind,
Shall come -- as, on those sighing woods,
The chilling autumn wind.  ---Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861)

May Magnificat*

(Happy Mother's Day!)**

May is Mary's month, and I
Muse at that and wonder why:
Her feasts follow reason,
Dated due to season—

Flesh and fleece, fur and feather,
Grass and greenworld all together;
Star-eyed strawberry-breasted
Throstle above bird nested

Cluster of bugle blue eggs thin
Forms and warms the life within;
And bird and blossom swell
In sod or sheath or shell.

All things rising, all things sizing
Mary saw, sympathising
With that world of good,
Nature's motherhood.

Their magnifying of each its kind
With delight calls to mind
How she did in her stored
Magnify the Lord.

Well but there was more than this:
Spring's universal bliss
Much, had much to say
To offering Mary May.

When drop-of-blood-and-foam-dapple
Bloom lights the orchard-apple
And thicket and thorp are merry
With silver-surfed cherry

And azuring-over greybell makes
Wood banks and brakes wash wet like lakes
And magic cuckoocall
Caps, clears, and clinches all—

This ecstasy all through mothering earth
Tells Mary her mirth till Christ's birth
To remember and exultation
In God who was her salvation.       

---Gerard Manley Hopkins, 1878

[edited for prominent Roman Catholic Marian theology; cmb, 2013]

*Mary's song during her pregnancy with Christ:  "My soul magnifies the Lord..."
**Rose & Blue are traditionally "Mary's colors."  Blue for faithfulness & Rose for femininity, motherhood & the color of the fresh, pure rose.

Calm on the Listening Ear of Night

1. Calm on the listening ear of night

Come heaven's melodious strains,

Where wild Judea stretch'ed far

Her silver mantled plains.

2. Celestial choirs from courts above

Shed sacred glories there;

And angels, with their sparkling lyres,

Make music on the air.

3. The answering hills of Palestine

Send back the glad reply;

And greet, from all their holy heights, The Dayspring* from on high.

4. O'er the blue depths of Galilee**

There comes a holier calm,

And Sharon*** waves, in solemn praise,

Her silent groves of palm.

5. "Glory to God!" the sounding skies

Loud with their anthems ring,

"Peace to the earth, good will to men,

From heaven's eternal King!"

6. Light on thy hills, Jerusalem!

The Savior now is born:

More bright on Bethlehem's joyous plains

Breaks the first Christmas morn.

---Edmund Hamilton Sears, 1834 (abridged)

*Dayspring: a poetic expression of "The Rising Sun", specifically the Messiah come to earth. From Luke 1:78, the Song of Zechariah at the birth of his son, John the Baptist. John was born to prepare the way of Jesus, the Messiah.

**The Sea of Galilee, up in the northern region of the Holy Land.

***Plain of Sharon: a lush coastal plain in Israel, between Joppa to the south & Mt. Carmel to the north.

Photo still from "The Nativity Story" (c) 2006

I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day*

I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along the unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

Till ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair I bowed my head**
“There is no peace on earth,” I said,
“For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.”

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on earth, good will to men.”
---Henry Wordsworth Longfellow, 1864

*Usually sung to a tune written by Jean Baptiste Calkin
*This poem was written during the Civil War. Two stanzas further reflecting the sense of despair over the war are not usually included anymore in the hymn and are not included here.

To Everything a Season

There is a time for everything,
And a season for every activity under heaven:

• A time to be born and a time to die;
• A time to plant and a time to uproot;
• A time to kill off forcefully and a time to heal;
• A time to tear down and a time to build;
• A time to weep and a time to laugh;
• A time to grieve and a time to dance;
• A time to scatter stones about and a time to gather them up;
• A time to embrace and a time to hold back;
• A time to search and a time to abandon search;
• A time to keep and a time to discard;
• A time to tear and a time to mend;
• A time to be silent and a time to speak
• A time to love and a time to hate*;
• A time for war and a time for peace....

[God] has made everything beautiful in its time.
He has also set eternity into the hearts of people,
Yet they cannot grasp what God has done
From beginning to end. --(King Solomon?); Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, 11
*We are called to truly hate what is evil or false; not to arbitrarily hate other people.

Aaahhh...VivAHldi!

This isn't a poem, but it IS a lovely rendition of Vivaldi's "Autumn" with great video clips:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_tHgtzAJePo
BTW, you can read a translation of the poems Vivaldi wrote describing each of the Four Season Concertos by clicking the "Vivaldi" link below or to the left.

Be Still, My Soul

[These are tough economic times for people. And, yet, the timeless wisdom and loving care of God never change.]

Be still, my soul*: the Lord is on your side.
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.
Leave to your God to order and provide:
In every change, He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: your best, your heavenly Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Be still, my soul: your God will undertake
To guide the future, as He has the past.
Your hope, your confidence let nothing shake:
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: the waves and winds still know
Christ's voice, which ruled them while He dwelt below.

Be still, my soul: when dearest friends depart,
And all is darkened in the vale of tears.
Then you shall better know His love, His heart,
Who comes to soothe your sorrow and your fears.
Be still, my soul: your Jesus can repay
From His own fullness all He takes away.

Be still, my soul: begin the song of praise;
While still on earth, sing to your Lord on high.
Acknowledge Him in all your words and ways**,
So shall He view you with a well-pleased eye.
Be still, my soul: the Sun of Life*** divine
Through passing clouds shall but more brightly shine.

Be still, my soul: the hour is hastening on
When we shall be forever with the Lord,
When disappointment, grief and fear are gone,
Sorrow forgot, love’s purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul: when change and tears are past
All safe and blessèd we will meet at last.
---Katharina A. von Schlagel, 1752 (German); translated 1855 Jane L. Borthwick; adapted c.m.b., 2009
*Psalms 46: 10 & 42: 4-11
**Proverbs 3: 5-6
***Malachi 4:2; Jesus as the "Sun of Righteousness"

He's Risen, He's Risen & Happy Easter

He's risen, He's risen, Christ Jesus, the Lord;
He opened death's prison, the incarnate, true Word.
Break forth, hosts of heaven, in jubilant song,
And earth, sea, and mountain the praises prolong.

The foe was triumphant when on Calvary
The Lord of creation was nailed to the tree.
In Satan's domain did the hosts shout and jeer:
For Jesus was slain, whom the evil ones fear.

But short was their triumph: the Savior arose!
And death, hell, and Satan He vanquished, His foes.
The conquering Lord lifts His banner on high:
He lives, yes, He lives, and will never-more die.

O, where is your sting, death?* We fear you no more!
Christ rose, and now open is fair Eden's door.
For all our transgressions His blood does atone;
Redeemed and forgiven, we now are His own.

Then sing your hosannas and raise your glad voice;
Proclaim the blest tidings that all may rejoice.
Laud, honor, and praise to the Lamb that was slain;
With Father and Spirit He ever shall reign.
----Rev. C.F.W. Walther, 1860
(adapted from the translation by Anna M. Meyer)

*Hosea 13: 14 & I Corintians 15: 55

The Call of the Desert

 

Ah. . . 

I can laugh,  

And my echo laughs back with me.  

I can run,  

And only the wind runs with me. 

I can leap,  

And I can land gracefully. 

I see beauty: 

A beauty I always see. 

I am alone,  

For I came to be free.  

The earth speaks, 

And I hear, for it's a part of me.  

Who am I  

That God should open my eyes to see 

The deep beauty  

Of what imperfect earth can be?  

The thorns poke,  

But even they cannot stop me; 

For I laugh,  

And You, O, LORD, laugh back with me. 

 ---C. Marie Byars, 1985; New Mexico

Holy God, We Praise Your Name

[a hymnodic paraphrase of the ancient chant, the Te Deum]

Holy God, we praise Your Name;
Lord of all, we bow before You!
All on earth Your scepter claim*,
All in Heaven above adore You;
Infinite Your vast domain,
Everlasting is Your reign.

Hark! the loud celestial hymn
Angel choirs above are raising,
Cherubim and seraphim,
In unceasing chorus praising;
Fill the heavens with sweet accord:
Holy, holy, holy, Lord.

Lo! the apostolic train
Join the sacred Name to hallow;
Prophets swell the loud refrain,
And the white robed martyrs** follow;
And from morn to set of sun,
Through the Church the song goes on.

You are King of glory, Christ:
Son of God, yet born of Mary;
For us sinners sacrificed,
Bringing us a sanctuary:
First to break the bars of death,
You have opened Heaven to faith.

Therefore do we pray You, Lord:
Help Your servants whom, redeeming
By Your precious blood out-poured,
You have saved from Satan’s scheming.
Give to them eternal rest
In the glory of the blest.

Spare Your people, Lord, we pray,
By a thousand snares surrounded:
Keep us from falling away,
Never let us be confounded.
See, I put my trust in You:
Guide my footsteps in all that I do.

Holy Father, Holy Son, Holy Spirit,
Three we name You;
While in essence only One,
Undivided God we claim You;
And adoring bend the knee,
While we own the mystery.
---Ignaz Franz (German), 1774; adapted Marie Byars, 2008

*more specifically, all of nature & all the saved acknowledge Him willingly now; someday, everyone will be made to acknowledge Him
**"martyrs": those who died as a result of their faith, giving a powerful Christian witness. ("Martyros" in Greek originally meant "witness.")

Vivaldi's Spring

[This is the explanatory sonnet Antonio Vivaldi wrote to preface the "Spring" Concerto, part of the "Four Seasons" Cycle.]

ALLEGRO
Spring has arrived,
And joyfully the birds greet her with glad song,
[FLOWING STREAMS]/LEGATO
While at the Zephyr's* breath
The streams flow forth with a sweet murmur.

Her chosen heralds, thunder and lightning,
Come to envelop the air in a black cloak;
Once they have fallen silent, the little birds
Return anew to their melodious incantation.

LARGO
Then on the pleasant, flower-bedecked meadows,
To the happy murmur of fronds and plants,
The goatherd sleeps next to his trusty dog.

ALLEGRO
To the festive sound of rustic bagpipes
Nymphs and shepherds dance beneath
The beloved sky
At the glorious appearance of spring.
----Antonio Vivaldi

*Zephyr: the warm west wind

Joy to the World

(A paraphrase of Psalm 98)

Joy to the world, the Lord is come!
Let earth receive her King;
Let every heart prepare Him room,
And Heaven and nature sing.

Joy to the earth, the Savior reigns!
Let men their songs employ;
While fields and floods, rocks, hills and plains
Repeat the sounding joy.

No more let sins and sorrows grow,
Nor thorns infest the ground;
He comes to make His blessings flow
Far as the curse is found.

He rules the world with truth and grace,
And makes the nations prove
The glories of His righteousness,
And wonders of His love.
---Isaac Watts, 1719

Joyful, Joyful We Adore You

Joyful, joyful, we adore You, 

God of glory, Lord of love; 

Make us bloom like flow'rs before You, 

Opening to our Sun* above. 

Melt the clouds of sin and sadness; 

Drive despair and gloom away; 

Giver of immortal gladness, 

Fill us with the light of day! 

All Your works with joy surround You, 

Earth and heaven reflect Your rays, 

Stars and angels sing around You, 

Center of unbroken praise. 

Field and forest, vale and mountain, 

Flow'ring meadow, cooling dew, 

Singing bird and flowing fountain 

Call us to rejoice in You. 

You are giving and forgiving, 

Ever blessing, ever blessed, 

Wellspring of the joy of living, 

Ocean depth of happy rest! 

God our Father, Christ our Brother, 

With the Holy Spirit One; 

Teach us how to love each other, 

Selflessly as You have done. 

 Mortals, join the happy chorus, 

Which the morning stars began; 

Father love is reigning o’er us, 

Christian love binds man to man. 

Ever singing, march we onward, 

Victors in the midst of strife, 

Joyful music leads us onward 

In the triumph song of life. 

---Henry van Dyke, 1907, 1911; adapted cmb 1990, 2007 

*Often a metaphor for Jesus "the 'Sun' of Righteousness; the 'Son' of God (Malachi)

Easter

Break the box and shed the nard*;
Stop not now to count the cost;
Hither bring pearl, opal, sard;
Reck not what the poor have lost;
Upon Christ throw all away:
Know ye, this is Easter Day.

Gather gladness from the skies;
Take a lesson from the ground;
Flowers do ope their heavenward eyes
And a Spring-time joy have found;
Earth throws Winter's robes away,
Decks herself for Easter Day.

Seek God's house in happy throng;
Crowded let His table be;
Mingle praises, payer and song,
Singing to the Trinity.
Henceforth let your souls alway
Make each morn an Easter Day.
---Gerard Manley Hopkins

*the woman in the Gospels who anointed Jesus's feet with expensive perfume

Queen Creek near Globe, AZ

The World is Too Much with Us

[Technically, the poet doesn't write this one in a Christian vein. He even borrows pagan mythology. But Wordsworth was Christian, and this is a great commentary on modern materialism.]

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
The sea that bares her bosom to the moon,
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune,
It moves us not. ---Great God! I'd rather be
A pagan suckled in a creed outworn.
So might I , standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn."
William Wordsworth