A friend loves at all times, with a heart sincere, Through seasons of joy, through shadows of fear. Unwavering, steadfast, a beacon so bright, A solace in darkness, in sorrow’s harsh night.
And born of such trials, when troubles amass, A brother emerges, as strong as brass. In adversity’s clutch, where hardships are rife, He stands by your side, defending through strife.
Together, entwined by the threads of pure care, In storms and in calm, a bond rare and fair. For love knows no bounds, and kinship no end, A friend and a brother, on whom you depend.
Pro 17:17 A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity.
In the Valley of Cancer, I tread softly, With faith as my guide, where shadows loom large. Trusting in God’s embrace, unseen but felt, Through paths where light and dark converge.
Healing whispers in the winds of grace, A journey not walked in solitude. Each step a testament, every breath a prayer, Where victories are woven in fortitude.
Beyond this vale, the promise of dawn, Bright with the hues of hope’s gentle spread. I carry on, heart bound to divine threads, Believing in the triumphs that lie ahead.
Rain taps at the window, a gentle, steady drum, Clouds cradle the sky in a somber, grey hum.The world outside whispers, soft and gray, Perfect for bean soup and cornbread day.
In the kitchen, the pot sings a bubbling tune, Rich aromas dance under the sleepy noon. Beans simmering, a hearty, warm ballet, Cornbread golden, in the oven’s sway.
Outside, the rain sketches paths on the glass, Inside, comfort foods convene en masse. Together they meld in a perfect array, On this quiet, nurturing, rainy day.
Pull up a chair, let the warmth cascade, Savor each spoonful, in buttery shade. For nothing quite lifts the spirits this way, Like bean soup and cornbread to brighten the day.
In the quiet hours, beneath the silvered hue, I fold my hands, grappling with what is true. Not to command the heavens, nor chart the skies, But to whisper the worries that within me lie.
I can’t steer the stars, nor mold the divine plan, I’m just a sojourner, doing all that I can. To the vast, unseen Listener above the thrum, I speak my heart and pray, “Thy Will be done.”
For in the tapestry, where cosmic threads intertwine, My voice is faint—a mere echo in the divine. Yet in humble tones, I relinquish my plea, A fragile hope cast on an eternal sea.
Not to alter the winds, or calm the raging storm, But to trust the One who holds all form. In the stillness, my spirit seeks to align With the pulse of the sacred, the timeless, the divine.
So I lay down my wishes, my dreams, my fears, In the lap of the Infinite, beyond the sphere. And though I can’t command, nor the outcomes see, In this act of surrender, there’s a profound liberty.
For faith is not forcing one’s will to be done, But embracing the dance with the Holy One. Thus, with each tender prayer that I compose, I find peace in the promise that He knows.
In shadows deep where troubles see athe and pain does oft recall, Is it better thus to bear the grieve than not have breathed at all? For life, in sacred trust bestowed by hands that sculpt the spheres, Holds more than just the paths we’ve trod—beyond our fleeting fears.
Yes, life is holy, gifted pure, from the Creator’s loving plea, A tapestry, both rich and sure, woven with threads of sanctity. Through valleys low where darkness lies, His light forever proves That life itself, through Jesus’ eyes, is precious and it moves.
For in His love, we find the strength to rise beyond our pain, To bear our crosses, stretch our lengths, in loss there’s much to gain. Though trials come and storms may rage, and tears like rivers flow, His presence marks each sorrowed page, with promises that grow.
So hold this life with reverent hands, and tread its hallowed ground, Embrace the heart’s courageous plans where hope and faith are found. To live with trouble, to endure, with Jesus at our side, Secures an anchor, safe and sure, in whom we can confide.
For life is more than fleeting breath, it’s a journey bold and new, Each moment spent is saved from death, when lived beneath His view. So yes, it’s better far to live, despite the pain we face, For through His Son, God’s love He gives, and holds us in His grace.
Through shadowed valleys, over peaks of light, We tread a path obscured from mortal sight. “Walk by faith,” a voice whispers soft and slight, The only way to turn the darkness bright.
Sight may deceive with its flickering gleam, A mirage of water, a fleeting dream. But faith is a lantern in night’s deep seam, Guiding us more truly than stars might seem.
Across the trials that twist beneath our feet, Where thorns obscure and tangled worries meet, Faith is the compass, steady and discreet, That leads us where love’s promises entreat.
So set your step on this unseen road wide, Where footfalls echo on the steeper side. Trust in those whispers, let them be your guide, For by faith, not by sight, we must abide.
In the walk of faith, find strength anew, Paths will clear, and the light will filter through. Embrace the journey made for just the few, To make everything right, to life be true.
Rejoice, rejoice, oh hearts alight, The morning sun scatters the night. Glad day, glad day, echoes the tune, Jesus is coming, glorious and soon.
Sing through the streets, dance in the lanes, Over the hills, across the plains. Voices uplift in joyous croon, Proclaim the news: He cometh at noon.
Lift up your heads, ye gates of gold, Prepare the way, the story retold. Hope blooms afresh like flowers in June, Glad day, glad day, He’s coming soon.
Each moment passed, each heartbeat’s sway, Draws nearer still that promised day. In humble praise, we kneel and pray, Glad day, glad day, oh blessed day.
The trumpets sound beyond the blue, Angels descend in hues anew. With grace, they trace, from night to noon, Our Savior’s path; He’s coming soon.
So hold your lamps, trimmed and bright, For in His light, all things are right. Glad day, glad day, sings the moon, Jesus is coming, oh so very soon.
In the vast expanse where thoughts collide, We seek to grasp what must abide, Yet mysteries cloak the truth’s wide span, It is important to understand we can’t understand.
Through the cosmos where silence holds sway, Questions birth as night births day, Answers flutter like grains of sand, Slipping quietly from the mind’s tight hand.
Among the stars, a decree is cast, Only the Divine knows the first and last, The weave of fate that none can command, In whispered reverence, we must stand.
For in the humility of our bounded sight, Lies the wisdom to embrace the night, Accepting that on this earthly strand, Only God knows the whole expanse so grand.
So, fold hands in prayer as mysteries unfold, In the garden where secrets are told but never sold, And find peace in the not knowing land, Where the heart can rest in the Creator’s plan.
In the rush of fleeting light, Words tumble, eager and bright. With each tick, a thought takes flight, So much to rhyme in the dwindling night.
Minutes meld into a swift stream, Ideas chase the tail of a dream. Across the page, under starlit gleam, Verses flow, a poetic scheme.
A clock’s hands dance, they twist and twine, In the echo of the old church chime. Yet in this brief moment, thoughts align, So much to rhyme with such little time.
Each syllable, a step, a climb, Up the steep face of a rhyme sublime. Hurry, hurry, while the muses mime, Quick, capture the verse before the end of time.
