Faith or Fear

On December 11th, I looked out the window and wrote a poem about the wintry view before my eyes. I was surprised that it ended up about fear and faith. What is in us has a way of coming out, doesn’t it. I rarely post new poems, but put it on-line. Dissatisfied, I revised it. Here’s the newer version. The original is below. What do you think?

Fear or Faith

Dry grasses shiver in the wind;
the trees are bare-bark gray,
bone-open—all can see
beyond their naked branches
trembling in the rising breeze.

Tall scattered pines, deep greens,
defy these winds;
standing straight against the skies
all overcast with gray,
the threatening haze
before my eyes this day
when sun is hid
and nameless, buried dreads
haunt hearts and heads
as fears of virus,
fears of fraud, fears of lies,
and fears of fear are spread abroad.

New choices fight old ways—
weighed down
our edges fray against gusts of dismay.
Qualms cloud the air
with waves that try to seed despair
and seek to feed all faithless sin,
all self-love’s loveless fear.

A busy chickadee
without anxiety
pecks away upon the tree
outside the glass in front of me.

And I recall
Words spoken long ago.
“Consider the lilies of the field,
Look on the birds of the air,
Our Heavenly Father feeds them,
Our Heavenly Father cares.”
He doesn’t know the word, despair.

Will we trust Him? Will we dare —
to turn from self to stand in Him
if stripped like winter trees?
If shaking in the wind?

Lord, let us stand in You,
like the pines before my eyes
we’d be steadfastly green,
alive in faith, we’d seek Your ways
through wintery days wrapped round with gray.

Give us Your Son, O Father.
Let us see our need—and yield—
and fall upon our knees.
Teach us to abide;
In You alone we’d hide.

Lord, Hear our prayer.
Grant strength, and certainty
that truth will rise
through our qualm-clouded air.
Still every wave that feeds despair.

By grace alone,
in You we stand,
to rise above all fear with praise to God.
Through all earth’s lying grays and every haze
His Son still shines.

Jesus did not die.
Jesus did not lie.
He hears our cries.
His heart beats in our own
He strengthens and He guides.

 

Here’s the original version—
Earlier this week, while sitting at my computer I looked out the window and wrote a poem about the wintry view before my eyes. I was surprised when it ended up about fear and faith. I rarely post new poems. I  cool them off and revise, but this one felt timely.  What do you think?

Faith or Fear

Dry grasses, tall and brown,
shiver, wave and shake at me;
the trees, all bare-bark gray,
stand nakedly, transparently
opened, for all to see,
past branches trembling in the breeze.

Tall scattered pines, deep green,
with dark between
stand staunchly, all unmoved
against the lighter hues of gray,
the haze that meets my eyes this day
when sun is hid
and often nameless, buried dreads
fill hearts and heads
with with choices,  grayed,
as fears of virus, fears of fraud,
fears of lies,
and fears of fear are spread abroad.
Qualms cloud the air
with waves that feed despair
and feed our sin of loveless fear.

A busy chickadee
without anxiety
pecks away upon the tree
outside the glass in front of me.

And I recall,
Words spoken long ago.
“Consider the lilies of the field,
Look on the birds of the air,
Our Heavenly Father feeds them,
Our Heavenly Father cares.”

Will we trust Him? Will we dare —
if stripped like winter trees,
if shaken to quiver
like grass in the wind?
Will we staunchly stand,
like the scattered pines before my eyes
steadfastly green
against gray days and haze?

By grace, we can!
We must!
Not only stand,
but let love cast out fear
and rise—to sing our praise to God
through all earth-grays and every haze
His Son still shines.

Jesus did not die.
Jesus did not lie.
He hears our cries.
He strengthens and He guides.